


Fathoms of Depravity

by CynicalLion



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad End Jack, Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Burnplay, Canon Divergence, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Drinking, Drug Use, Fluff, God Complex, Heavily Uses In-Game Dialogue, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Murder, Non-Explicit Child Murder, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sadism, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smoking, Spoilers, Swearing, Unsafe Sex, Voice Kink, idolatry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 187,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalLion/pseuds/CynicalLion
Summary: Jack finds himself in the crumbling underwater city of Rapture and also finds a very helpful man named Atlas. With Atlas' help, he carves a bloody path through the city while trying to escape it and discovers that he's not a very good person and Rapture is exactly the place that he wants to be.(Also check out Fathoms of Depravity Shorts for some nonsense in between updates)
Relationships: Atlas/Jack (BioShock), Augustus Sinclair/Jack, Fontaine/Jack/Sinclair, Frank Fontaine/Augustus Sinclair, Frank Fontaine/Jack
Comments: 58
Kudos: 136





	1. Medical Pavilion Jack PoV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Atlas, Andrew Ryan, J.S. Steinman, Brigid Tenenbaum
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Voice Kink, Daddy Kink, Drug Use, Murder, Sadism, Non-Explicit Child Murder

The plane crashing into the ocean was a blur. How he'd managed to get out alive was a blur. The swim to the lighthouse, the walk down the stairs, entering the bathysphere, all a blur. The pictures flashing by in the small submersible morphed into one and the words bled together into static. There were more voices, new sights, screaming, scratching, flashing. It was all a blur until a voice suddenly rang out crystal clear, something about it forcing Jack to focus.

"Would you kindly pick up that shortwave radio?"

Taking in a shuddering breath as his mind cleared up, Jack looked around and saw the radio. With a shaking hand, he pulled it off its perch on the wall and held onto it like a lifeline. "Who-who is this?" He asked softly, voice as shaky as his hands.

"My name's Atlas. I dunno how you survived that plane crash, but I aim to keep you alive." The voice on the other side of the radio responded, something about it making Jack's shaking slowly subside. "T'do that, we're gonna have to get you to higher ground."

"O-okay." Jack said, opening the bathysphere door but hesitating as his mind slowly unclouded the images of the evening and he remembered seeing a man get disemboweled right outside the protective steel bubble. His body was still lying right there and everything. Jack tried not to look at it.

As if sensing Jack's hesitation, Atlas spoke up again, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take a deep breath and step out of the bathysphere. I won't leave ya twistin' in the wind."

Deciding to trust his current best option, Jack did just that, stepping out of the bathysphere after a deep breath. He started walking, looking around uncertainly, but paused when he heard running from the shadows all around him. The vision of the woman, creature?, who'd eviscerated that man flashed in his mind and made Jack really want to return to the relative safety of the bathysphere.

"We're gonna need to draw her out of hidin'." Atlas said, startling Jack with his sudden declaration. "But you're gonna have to trust me."

It seemed like alot to ask from a complete stranger, but Jack didn't see any better options. "Alright. I-I'll trust you." He said uncertainly, taking another, shorter breath and continuing on.

"I'll wrap you in a sheet." Came a voice from the shadows, making Jack whirl around. There was no one there and Jack spun around again when there was a loud pop and a flash behind him. He looked up and saw that a television had blown out, the case still sparking a bit. Gritting his teeth, Jack pressed on, annoyance at his frayed nerves starting to overtake actually being afraid.

"Just a bit further." Atlas said from his hip, his voice like a soothing balm both to Jack's frayed nerves and his slowly simmering temper.

Just as Jack was about to climb over some rubble, the woman from before dropped from the ceiling in front of him. He froze but that was apparently what Atlas had been waiting for because a flying machine dropped right after her and started peppering her with gunfire.

"How do ya like that, sister?!" Atlas shouted over the radio, drawing Jack's attention away from the retreating woman.

Jack suddenly realized Atlas must be able to see what was happening. When he peered into the darkness, he could indeed make out shapes that might have been cameras. Maybe Atlas had been watching the whole time. The thought was oddly comforting. Jack was pulled from his thoughts once again by Atlas' voice, a sudden clarity hitting him when his voice crackled over the radio.

"Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or somethin'?" Atlas asked, prompting Jack to continue climbing over the rubble. "Bloody Splicers sealed Johnny in before they-- goddamn Splicers." He ground out, sounding like he was trying to keep from choking up.

Frowning sympathetically as he picked through the rubble, Jack finally found a fairly large, very sturdy wrench and whacked it against his hand lightly a few times. "Think this'll do?" He asked, holding the wrench up before giving it a test swing. "It's pretty heavy."

"Looks like it'll do just fine, lad." Atlas replied, his approval making Jack smile for reasons the young man couldn't fathom.

Carrying on, Jack found himself in a fairly open area and tried the door first. It was locked and what he assumed was the control panel was shorted out, so he tried the stairs. Up at the top of the stairs, there was a bottle and a syringe sitting on what looked like the dispensary of a vending machine. Walking over, Jack picked up both curiously and examined them, finding that the bottle had a label. "Electro Bolt". "Hey, Atlas, what's this?" He asked, looking around for a camera and holding the bottle up when he located it.

"Ah, that's a Plasmid, lad!" Atlas said, sounding excited. "Fill that syringe up with it and inject it into your wrist. Trust me, it'll come in handy."

Looking back to the bottle, Jack hesitated but sighed shortly after and filled the syringe with the liquid. He looked at his wrist, briefly thought of the fact that he was going to inject an unknown substance into his body because a stranger told him to, and then shot up. The effect was instant and Jack gripped his hand close to himself at the pain. It was like lightning had struck his hand and it was traveling. Fuck, it hurt. He didn't even realize he was screaming and stumbling about until Atlas shouted over him.

"Steady now! Your genetic code is bein’ rewritten, just hold on and everythin'll be fine!"

Dropping to his knees in both pain and the want to listen to what Atlas was saying, Jack lasted until the electric feeling reached his chest. At that point, he started to scream again but promptly blacked out, the pain overwhelming him. When Jack woke up, the pain had faded and he was able to sit up slowly.

"You all right, boyo?" Atlas asked gently over the radio, his concern making Jack's breath come a little easier.

"Yeah." He eventually replied, still trying to regulate his breathing but finding his voice. "Yeah, I'm alright."

"First time Plasmid's a real kick from a mule." Atlas said, his tone still on the sympathetic side. "But, there's nothin' like a fistful of lightnin', now is there?" He asked, sounding a bit more excited now.

Frowning in confusion, Jack looked down and realized his hands were periodically sparking with electricity. "Whoa." he breathed, holding his left hand out and gasping lightly when he flexed it and lightning shot from his fingertips. "Holy shit, that's amazing." Jack breathed, laughing softly and standing slowly. Once he was standing, Jack looked out over the room from the balcony and caught sight of the shorting out door. Looking down at his hands and then at the door again, Jack gave a shrug and zapped the control, smiling broadly when that did the trick and the door opened.

"Now that's usin' the ol' noggin, boyo." Atlas said, sounding pleased. "Before you press on, I'm gonna send you somethin' through that there pneumo tube."

Smiling at the praise, Jack looked around and found the tube in question. He walked down the stairs and poked around inside it, finding a simple black backpack and what appeared to be a toolbelt. Taking them out, Jack examined them for a moment before slipping both on. Once the belt was fastened, he moved the radio to it, finding it felt much sturdier on the belt than clipped to his slacks.

"You shouldn't be shy about collectin' things that look useful. The difference between life n’ death can come down to a single med-kit or Eve hypo here in Rapture." Atlas informed, his tone serious. "Poke around, rifle through pockets, do what ya gotta."

"Right." Jack replied, passing through the door after looking around the room quickly for supplies. As he was passing through the tunnel outside the door, there was a violent shaking that nearly knocked Jack off his feet. He looked around and saw a piece of the plane's cabin coming for the glass walkway he was in and had just enough time to turn away to avoid the spray of glass and seawater before it went crashing through. The glass around him was cracking so Jack hurried on, climbing into the plane and out a hole in the side. He ran down the path now, passing a door that was bulging and leaking water threateningly and hurried into the only other door available.

It closed behind him and Jack quickly moved away from it, glancing back to make sure it wasn't going to burst and sighing in relief when it seemed sturdy enough. There was the sound of metal scraping metal in front of him and Jack's head snapped forward in time to see a figure disappear down some nearby stairs.

"Splicer! Give 'em the combo: zap 'em then whack 'em. One-two punch! Remember, the one-two punch!" Atlas called, sounding alarmed but certain.

Finding it easy to call upon his lightning when he focused, Jack followed the Splicer and found him in the adjoining room, brandishing a wrench. Without hesitation, Jack unleashed his lightning and when the Splicer began to convulse, he dashed forward and swung the wrench with more force than necessary if the way the Splicer's jaw was now barely hanging onto his still face was any indication.

Eyes widening, Jack looked down at the wrench and flexed his hand around the heavy weapon. Was that him or the wrench? He wasn't that strong, right? The wrench really just must be that heavy. Like everytime he'd gotten lost in his thoughts thus far, Atlas' voice brought Jack back to the present.

"Ha! Good job, lad!" He cheered, sounding very pleased. "Damn near knocked his head off too. That's one hell of a swing ya got there."

"Yeah." Jack mumbled, shuddering lightly.

"By the way, if it starts gettin' hard to use your lightnin', shoot up with one of those blue syringes. It's Eve and it's the fuel that'll keep your Plasmids goin'." Atlas informed, a blue syringe over in the corner of the room near a corpse catching Jack's eye.

"Okay, I will." Jack said, collecting the syringe and heading back out into the hall. He walked through the door when it opened and was immediately treated to the sight of an elevator shooting down its tube while on fire. That was concerning considering he was supposed to be getting to higher ground. A Splicer, who had miraculously survived the fall, came running out of the elevator. He was also on fire but seemed less concerned about that and more concerned about charging at Jack so the man in question shocked him before hitting him with considerably less force with the wrench.

The hit still dented the Splicer's skull, but at least he didn't almost decapitate him. Looking over at the only functional-looking elevator, Jack swallowed softly and boarded. The door closed instantly and the elevator started moving, surprising Jack.

"Listen," Atlas suddenly started, sounding more serious than Jack had heard him so far. "I've got a family. I need to get them to safety, but the Splicers have cut me off from them. If you can reach them in Neptune's Bounty, then maybe, just maybe--" He trailed off, the sadness and hope in his voice making Jack's heart ache. "I know you must feel like the unluckiest man in the world right now, but you're the only hope I'll ever see my family again. Go to Neptune's Bounty, help me rescue my family, please."

"Oh, Atlas." Jack said softly, stepping out of the elevator as soon as it stopped. "Of course I'll help you. You've already done so much for me, helping you save your family is the least I could do."

"Thank you so much, lad." Atlas breathed, sounding near to tears.

Simply smiling, Jack moved on, finding a Splicer babying a pistol. Singing to it, even. After a moment, Jack zapped her, hitting her in the back of the head with the wrench as she convulsed. "That's-- odd, right?" He asked, taking the pistol she'd been babying and sticking it in his toolbelt.

"Not really." Atlas sighed, sounding a mix of resigned and sad. "Plasmids changed everythin', y'see. They destroyed our bodies, our minds, most couldn't handle it. Best friends butcherin' one another, babies strangled in cribs. The whole city went to hell."

"Jesus." Jack breathed, coming across more Splicers and killing them easily using the stun and whack method. It was when he was unleashing a bolt of lightning that something occurred to him. "I'm not gonna end up like that, am I?"

"Nah, boyo. It took years of abuse for the Splicers to end up the way they are." Atlas reassured, making a throaty, almost grunting sound as Jack entered a partially flooded room with more Splicers. "Zap those ones in the water."

Obeying without really thinking, Jack watched as the splicers convulsed, the current seeming to travel between them via the water. They dropped dead a moment later and Jack found himself having to stifle a laugh. That was disturbing. Since when did he laugh at death? Was that a symptom of shock? Walking up to the water, Jack noticed a tape recorder and tilted his head a bit.

Wading over, Jack grabbed it and hit play. There was a woman complaining about her love life and there were some explosions and Jack was about to set the tape aside again and move on when something someone shouted caught him off-guard. "Long live Atlas." Raising an eyebrow, Jack looked around and found a camera to shoot his confused look at. "Long live Atlas?" He asked, decidedly a tad confused.

"I might've been a bit of a public figure once upon a time." Atlas mumbled, sounding almost sheepish.

"Huh." Jack huffed, going for the only path he could take and exiting out of a giant hole in the bathroom wall onto a balcony. He then watched curiously as, down below, a little girl repeatedly stabbed a corpse with a huge needle.

"Careful now." Atlas said quietly, cautiously. "Would you kindly lower that weapon for a minute?"

Putting his wrench away without really thinking about it, Jack looked down at the little girl. "Is that a kid?" He asked softly, adopting Atlas' quiet tone.

"She may look it, but don't be fooled. She's a Little Sister. Somebody went and turned a sweet baby girl into a monster." Atlas replied, sounding disgusted and a tad angry. "Whatever you thought about right and wrong on the surface, well, that don't count for much down in Rapture. Those Little Sisters, they carry Adam, the genetic material that keeps the wheels of Rapture turnin'. Everybody wants it, everybody needs it."

Humming a bit in acknowledgment, Jack slowly stepped onto the beams which were his only way to the other side and found them sturdy. He made his way across safely just in time to see a Splicer attack the Little Sister. There was a roar from nearby and Jack watched with wide eyes as a massive creature came from seemingly nowhere and attacked the Splicer.

"That's a Big Daddy. She gathers Adam, he keeps her safe." Atlas explained, sounding somewhat grim.

Walking down the nearby stairs, Jack got a front-row view of the Splicer getting bashed against a window by the Big Daddy several times before being smashed right through. He took a few steps back but the Big Daddy wasn't interested in him and lumbered off after the Little Sister. "You'd think they'd've called them Big Brothers instead of Big Daddies." Jack said softly, finding he was oddly undisturbed by the violence he'd just witnessed. In fact, it was actually a little funny. How often did someone get honest-to-god smashed through a window right in front of your face? Not often!

Mildly disturbed by his own thoughts, Jack tried to suppress the feeling of amusement and simply pressed on, not even noticing if Atlas had responded to his quip or not. He fought through two Splicers, deciding to use his gun since his thoughts were still bothering him. He didn't want to risk enjoying bashing someone's head in.

Despite his uncertainties about his own mental state, Jack couldn't resist using Electro Bolt on two splicers in some water, covering his mouth to stifle a giggle as they convulsed and passed the charge back and forth until they were both dead. Why was that so funny? What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Startin' to feel sick, lad?" Atlas' gentle voice came through the radio, breaking Jack out of his conflicted thoughts.

Shaking his head, Jack lowered his hand, his face grim. "No, I--" He stopped, shaking his head again and stepping into the water. "I'm okay. Thanks, Atlas."

"You're not." Atlas said, sounding slightly concerned. "C'mon now, boyo, you can trust me. Would you kindly tell me what's wrong?"

"I like it." Jack practically whispered, stopping just as he was about to jump down to the lower level of the room. Why did he admit that? What about Atlas asking all nice made him so pliable? That voice _was_ like liquid silk. No! Bad Jack!

"What?" Atlas asked, sounding surprised.

Sighing deeply, Jack jumped down, quickly getting out of the water he'd landed in. "I like it. The-the killing. I-I've never-- sh-shouldn't I feel bad? I-- they're people, Atlas." He stumbled out, slowly walking towards the exit. The gate suddenly slammed shut and an alarm started blaring. "Shit." He breathed, backing up and looking over as he heard splicers in the distance.

"It's Ryan! Goddamn Andrew Ryan! He found us!" Atlas shouted, sounding more angry than Jack had heard him so far. "Dammit, he's shut off all access to Neptune!"

Jack didn't have time to respond as two Splicers ran into the room and jumped into the puddle from the upper floor. _Oh no_. Before Jack could try to restrain himself, he was zapping them, biting his lip and covering his mouth as they convulsed. Three more ran in and Jack flexed his hand without even thinking, letting out a little giggle that sounded unhinged to his own ears as they twitched and shook. Shit, what the fuck? Shock, it had to be shock, he had to be in shock, it--

"There's another way to get there, head to Medical!" Atlas shouted, seeming to grow more agitated when Jack simply stood there. "What're ya waitin' for? Go!"

Snapping out of his daze, Jack started running towards the only other way he could go. "Sorry." He breathed, vaulting over some rubble in his way and then pausing. When-- since when could he do that? Shaking his head, Jack kept moving, running into a room and freezing when the path was blocked behind him and the door leading to the exit slid shut. "Fuck." He breathed, rushing over to the door and tugging it uselessly when it didn't open automatically.

"Ah, Christ! You're trapped!" Atlas shouted, sounding almost as panicked as Jack felt. "Gonna try to override the exit from here! Hang in there, boyo!"

There was a large television behind Jack and as it flicked on, he turned to look at in surprise, seeing a man's face on the screen. "So tell me, friend, which one of the bitches sent you? The KGB wolf or the CIA jackal?" The man asked, not seeming to expect a reply as he carried on. "Here's the news: Rapture isn't some sunken ship for you to plunder and Andrew Ryan isn't a giddy socialite who can be slapped around by government muscle. And with that, farewell, or dasvidaniya, whichever you prefer."

The television blinked off and Jack heard the Splicers before he saw them. There was at least a dozen, all of them now trying to break into the room. Jack wasn't sure he could take that many at once. Backing up against the door, Jack watched as the glass holding the bulk of the Splicers at bay began to crack.

"I got it! Get outta there! Get out now!" Atlas shouted, Jack not needing to be told again as he spun and sprinted out of the room, leaning against the door heavily once he was safe.

"Now you've met Andrew Ryan, the bloody **King** of Rapture." Atlas said, sounding almost tired.

"Ryan as in "death to Ryan"?" Jack asked, still remembering the tape he'd listened to.

"Yeah, that Ryan." Atlas muttered, sounding sheepish again.

"Holy shit." Jack breathed, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, I know it's alot to take in, lad, but you need to find your way to Emergency Access." Atlas said, his stern voice helping to ground Jack.

"Right, right." Jack said, taking a deep breath and continuing on. "Look-- about what I told you earlier--" He started after a bit, not really sure what to say but sure he should say _something_.

"You're fightin' for your life down there, boyo." Atlas said, his voice soothing. "You've never done anythin' like this before, it makes sense that ya don't know how to feel."

"But-but I do know." Jack said softly, coming to the door he needed and seeing it was jammed by a robot. He crouched in front of it, examining it for a bit, before straightening up and kicking it. To his surprise, it practically flew out from between the door and he heard it smash violently against the wall behind the door before the doors opened fully. "I-I'm enjoying it." Jack muttered, half his stammer being from what he was admitting and the other from what he'd just done. When did his kick get that strong? Had it always been like that? Surely not. Surely he'd remember--

"Ain't that better than tearin' yourself up over it?" Atlas asked softly, the lack of judgment in his voice making Jack's heart thud off-rhythm and mind go blank.

"I-I guess?" He muttered, shooting two splicers without thinking as he made his way to where he thought he needed to go.

"Stop beatin' yourself up over not beatin' yourself up, boyo." Atlas sighed, Jack suddenly realizing why his voice was so soothing to him. He sounded like a father. _Papa Atlas_. The thought made Jack's stomach flip even as he wondered what the fuck was wrong with himself. "Prolly best just to take your feelin's as they come and try not to dwell too much. A place like Rapture doesn't treat stayin' still to consider things for too long kindly."

"Alright." Jack said, pulling a lever and groaning when another alarm sounded, though it was a brief one and really only served to let Jack know that he wasn't going to get to go the easy way.

"If you want to use the Emergency Access, you'll be needing Dr. Steinman's key. He's the one who runs this place." Atlas informed, sounding less annoyed than Jack but still up there. "Just don't expect him to hand it to you out of the milk o’ human kindness. Steinman ain't that kind, and frankly, I'm not even sure he's still human."

"Fun." Jack practically whimpered, turning to his only other option and zapping the Splicer that charged at him. He caved her skull in and pulled a different lever, another alert sounding. "Seriously!?" Jack shouted, snatching up the machine gun that was propped up nearby and checking it for bullets. Fully loaded. What luck?

"Now you've rattled the monkey cage. Here they come!" Atlas shouted, Jack hearing the Splicers outside.

Taking a deep breath, Jack decided he needed to take Atlas' advice to heart and cocked the machine gun. Walking out of the room, Jack made quick work of the Splicers that stormed him. By the end, the barrel of the machine gun was smoking, Jack was spattered in blood, some of it his own, and he was grinning broadly, his adrenaline pumping so hard through his veins he almost felt dizzy.

"You're bleedin', boyo." Atlas' gentle voice caught Jack's attention and he looked down at his minor bullet wounds, suddenly realizing how odd it was that they didn't hurt. Adrenaline. It had to be the adrenaline.

"Yeah." Jack breathed, shaking his head quickly and sliding his backpack off. He took off his sweater next, revealing a grey tank top underneath, and quickly patched up his injuries, finding bandages and antiseptic and a few syringes inside the med-kit he opened. The syringes were labeled "Quik-Heal" and had an orange liquid in them and Jack's injuries glowed orange for a moment before closing up after he'd injected himself with one. It was a good thing he wasn't afraid of needles since it seemed like everything in Rapture had to be injected.

Realizing his sweater was kinda gross now, Jack simply gave it a quick fold and stuffed it in his pack, slinging the pack back on once he was done. A low whistle made Jack glance at his hip even as he kept moving. "Quite the guns you're packin' there, boyo. No wonder ya ain't got no trouble swingin' that wrench." Atlas hummed, the way his voice sounded making Jack's face heat up.

"Oh, um, thanks." Jack said nervously, heart thudding a little faster in his chest as he overthought the compliment. Was Atlas flirting with him? Jack was sure he was imagining it, but the tone of that sexy Irish voice when he'd commented on his "guns" sure seemed flirty. Deciding he couldn't very well ask and that he didn't have time to ponder, Jack walked over to the door to the surgery wing and pushed the button there, half expecting an alarm and sighing in relief when the door began to slide open slowly.

"You keep an eye peeled for Steinman. The daft bastard's set up shop in the surgery wing. You wanna find him, just follow the blood." Atlas informed, his revelation timing up perfectly with the door opening to reveal a bloody mural to Jack.

"Shouldn't be too hard." Jack said, slowly walking into the room and passing up the mural. He went to turn a corner before hearing a sharp trill and ducking back as he was suddenly peppered by gunfire.

"Remember, machines will short out right and proper if you hit 'em with Electro Bolt!" Atlas shouted, his voice ringing out clear to Jack over the gunshots.

"Right, thanks." Jack said, dashing out from behind the wall once the firing stopped and zapping the machine. He ran over as it short-circuited and smashed it with his wrench, loosing his full strength onto the machine and stepping back in shock at how badly doing so _obliterated_ it. Apparently he was **alot** stronger than he thought. Alot stronger than he remembered.

Why couldn't he remember being so damn strong? He couldn't-- shock. It had to be shock. He was still in shock. Everything was happening too fast and he couldn't process anything and that's why he couldn't remember. That had to be it. As Jack fought with himself mentally, his legs kept him moving and he mindlessly killed at least six Splicers and destroyed another turret before, as usual, Atlas' voice brought him out of his mind.

"Y'seem very tense, boyo." Atlas said, his voice so concerned and warm that Jack found himself practically chanting "Papa Atlas" in his head.

"Sorry." Jack muttered, stopping and watching as a Big Daddy and Little Sister walked by in the giant glass pipe across the way from his. He wasn't really sure why he was apologizing. Maybe for making Atlas worry? "I just-- I can't help but think-- there must something wrong with me." Jack replied, fighting a losing battle with his mind. "Ever since I got here, I-I don't feel like myself."

There was silence for a bit before Atlas spoke again. "Would you kindly loosen up a bit, boyo? You're gonna tear yourself apart if you don't."

And just like that, Jack's moral compass went askew. His idea of right and wrong got a little warped, areas bleeding together until things weren't so much black and white as they were varying hues of grey. It was so incredibly freeing that Jack visibly relaxed, looking like a string had been cut. "I don't know what it is about your voice that makes it so easy to listen to you, but-but thank you." Jack said softly, feeling odd but good. It was like even though he didn't recognize the voice in his head as his own, he was more himself than he'd ever been. It was an odd feeling but it wasn't distressing, not anymore, now feeling like it was something he'd just need to acclimate to rather than something he should be fighting. "That helped so much, you have no idea."

"I'm happy to help ya, boyo." Atlas replied, genuinely sounding it too. "We need eachother, after all, don't we? I help you survive this city and you help me save my family. So long as we stick together, we'll be okay. Nothin' else matters."

Words that just a few minutes ago would've rattled Jack's carefully constructed morals made so much sense now. "Nothing else matters." He echoed, smiling and feeling better than he could ever remember feeling. "You're right."

"Atta boy. Keep it movin' now." Atlas commanded, his voice the perfect mix of gentle and stern.

"Yes, Papa." Jack said softly, the words sliding out now that he had less control over himself. He didn't have time to realize what he'd said as he came across the man who he recognized as Steinman by voice alone. Jack tried to zap him but Steinman was fast and took off running down a hall, bringing a pillar down behind him so Jack couldn't follow. "Damn." Jack swore softly, hissing and quickly finding cover when a Splicer ran out onto one of the balconies in the room and started throwing explosives.

"If you get your hands on one of them Telekinesis Plasmids, you could catch those damn firebombs and toss it right back in that Splicer's gob or anythin' else that might be standin' in your way." Atlas informed, his voice sounding a little off to Jack.

"Right, good idea." Jack said, waiting a beat and then running out of the room and to safety. As he moved, searching for what he needed, Atlas spoke up again.

"So--" He paused and Jack found that odd. Atlas was usually very put-together. Or, he seemed like he was usually very put-together. He hardly ever paused while speaking and Jack had never heard him fumble his words. Not like himself. He got pretty scattered when he was stressed or upset. "Papa, huh?" Atlas asked, his voice sounding slightly strained and still off.

Nearly tripping over nothing in particular, Jack felt his heart skip in panic. "Shit. That came out?" He asked lowly, swallowing and running a hand through his hair. "Look, I-I'm sorry, I just--"

"Say it again."

Jack took a beat to process that and then his eyes found a camera. "What?"

"Say. It. Again." Atlas repeated more slowly, his voice still sounding strange.

"Papa Atlas." Jack said quietly, breath hitching at the strangled little growl that crackled over the radio.

"Shit, boyo." Atlas practically groaned, sounding a little bit more like himself now. "Didn't know ya were into that."

Smiling shyly, Jack gave a light shrug. "I wasn't 'til I met you." There was another strangled noise and Jack thought he might faint.

"Let's keep movin', boyo. I'm gettin' right desperate t'meet ya."

"Yes, Papa." Jack said softly, biting his lip and getting a move on as Atlas made the same strangled noise on the other side of the radio. Maybe there was something wrong with Jack, flirting with a complete stranger while his life was on the line like this, but Atlas seemed into it and Jack couldn't remember ever having had much shame.

For the first time since he'd arrived in Rapture, the idea of not being able to remember something didn't send Jack spiraling. Finding a new ease in his movements, Jack made quick work of every Splicer he came across, favoring his wrench above the considerably safer guns. He wasn't puling his swings anymore and instead of fighting with the side of himself that found the cracks and squelches of Splicer heads caving in oh-so-satisfying, he embraced it.

Whatever permission Atlas' acceptance had granted him, Jack was practically euphoric to have it. Eventually Jack made it to a room with a large camera in it. When it caught him in its red glow, it made a terrible noise and Jack quickly ducked for cover, some instinct telling him that was a bad noise.

"Security cameras." Atlas practically spat, the words almost sounding like a swear. "They're not like the little ones that I been watchin' you from, they're Ryan's eyes and ears. Ya get caught by one of 'em for too long and they'll bring a whole heap o' trouble down on ya."

Flexing his hand, Jack popped out of his hiding spot and zapped the camera before hurtling his wrench at it. The camera shattered spectacularly and Jack walked over, retrieving his wrench. "Problem solved." He breathed, feeling less and less disturbed by his own strength as Atlas' words echoed in his head. _"Loosen up a bit, boyo. You're gonna tear yourself apart."_ God, but it felt good to loosen up.

A hearty laugh from his hip made Jack look down with a smile. "Good work, lad!" Atlas said happily, sounding impressed and making Jack beam.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack replied softly, caving in the skull of the Splicer in the next room. He looked around and spotted a Plasmid in a room with a door that wouldn't open. Crouching, Jack crawled through a small opening near the door and grabbed the Plasmid, which was labeled Incinerate, before flinching slightly as a speaker crackled overhead.

"A parasite wanders the halls. We rebuild our city, and the doubters send a fly to spoil our ointment." The voice of Ryan sneered over the speakers. "One thousand Adam to the man or woman who pins its wings."

Frowning a bit, Jack quickly injected himself with the Plasmid, finding it wasn't even close to as bad as the first time. "Guess he's talking about me, huh?" He mumbled, finding that the new Plasmid gave him lava-like cracks on his skin. Before he could figure out how to activate it, a handful of Splicers ran into the room, all of them trying to figure out how to get at Jack. When Jack had entered the room, he'd noticed the oil on the floor, the oil the Splicers were now standing in. Now, if he could just figure out how to--

With a snap of his fingers, a burst of fire shot from Jack's hand and he ignited the oil, a grin spreading slowly on his face as the Splicers screamed and burned before him. And why shouldn't he enjoy it? They were trying to kill him, after all. This whole city seemed against him. Everyone but Atlas seemed to want him dead. _Loosen up._ Oh, he was loose, alright. Being concerned for his mental state had been exhausting and now he felt amazing.

Once the screaming ceased, Atlas spoke up. "All roads in Rapture lead to Ryan. The security, the Splicers, the Big Daddies, the Little Sisters; he pumps some kind of chemical scent in the air, pheromones they call it, makes 'em all dance to his tune."

"Guess not everyone can be charismatic enough to make people listen to them without an extra edge." Jack said, crawling back through the opening once the fire had died down.

"Oh? You think I'm charismatic, boyo?" Atlas asked, sounding amused now.

Smiling a bit, Jack made his way to the path he needed that was blocked by ice. "Charismatic enough to have me wrapped around your little finger after knowing you for-- however long I've been down here." He replied, suddenly realizing he had no idea how much time had passed since the crash. It was damn near impossible to tell how much time had passed since there was no sun or clocks in Rapture. Or, no clocks Jack had noticed, anyway.

Atlas chuckled lightly and the sound brought a flush to Jack's cheeks. "Careful, boyo, you might go gettin' me attached to ya."

Ooh, Jack wanted that. He wanted that _badly_. Smiling a bit to himself, Jack incinerated a couple of Splicers and picked up a shotgun from nearby, deciding it might come in handy and keeping it. Atlas had just revealed a weakness and Jack was going to exploit it. He liked compliments. That would be an easy weakness to exploit since Jack couldn't think of a single bad thing about the man. Granted, he didn't know him that well, but still.

Stepping into a room, Jack froze as the lights suddenly snapped off. He heard footsteps in the dark, running in all different directions, and lit his hand on fire, the flame not doing much besides lighting up the area directly in front of him. When the lights snapped back on, Jack was beset by Splicers and started alternating between his wrench and Incinerate to take care of them. It was a wave of seven in total and Jack was panting a bit by the end of it and smiling.

"That was fun." He breathed, injecting some Eve into his wrist now that the fight was over.

"Glad you're takin' my advice to loosen up to heart, boyo." Atlas said, indeed sounding quite pleased.

"It was getting exhausting worrying." Jack sighed, finally finding the Telekinesis Plasmid and injecting himself with it. "I feel so much better since you convinced me to calm down." His hand didn't look any different and when he flexed it nothing happened, so Jack looked around. Since this was supposed to be Telekinesis, he probably needed something to test it on. Luckily the room had lots of trophies in it. Looking at a trophy, Jack raised his hand and focused, laughing in joy when the trophy came to him. He aimed in the other direction and flexed his hand, finding he couldn't stop focusing enough to drop the trophy without some kind of physical movement.

Flexing his hand didn't drop the trophy though, it launched it. The trophy clattered noisily against a wall and Jack's eyes widened. Well, that had been less violent than when he'd thrown his wrench. Thinking briefly, Jack tried levitating a nearby trash can and found it was incredibly easy. Rearing his arm back, Jack put force into throwing the trash can forward, flexing his hand at the last moment to cut his hold on it. Sure enough, the trash can hit the wall with considerably more force, almost crumpling like an aluminum can.

"You should get in some practice with a movin' target." Atlas suggested, drawing Jack's attention to a tennis ball shooter.

"Good thinking, Papa." Jack hummed, pressing the button and easily catching the first ball that shot at him. He launched it off to the side and caught the next one. He launched that one off to the side as well but got an idea when he caught the next one. Aiming up, Jack got in a bit of target practice with some trophies up on some tall shelves.

Confident in his abilities after the mini training session, Jack left, making his way back to the room with the blocked off hall. On the way there, Jack came across two more Splicers that he dealt with easily. One of them even tried throwing an explosive at Jack. Needless to say, he ate it, Jack's reflexes feeling sharp as his mental walls slowly but surely crumbled. Now that he wasn't feeling the need to question when his reflexes had gotten so good or when he'd become so strong, his ability to fight was only improving.

Making it to the room he needed, Jack first blew up the debris in his way and then the Splicer who'd provided him the bomb. Entering the hall, Jack was met with a gate that didn't go all the way up to the ceiling and was about to start climbing when Steinman sicced a robot on him, the gate opening soon after. Blasting the robot with a zap of lightning, Jack waited for the machine to drop out of the sky and then brought his foot down on it, smiling a bit when it went through with minimal pain, punching a foot-shaped hole into the middle of the bot. Shaking the machine off, Jack kept walking and zapped the turret waiting for him at the end of the hall. This one got his wrench and Jack finally got Steinman cornered.

As the doctor was shouting nonsense that he didn't really bother listening to, Jack tried both of the doors that would let him get at the man. Neither would open, so Jack did the next best thing. Levitating a metal box that was nearby, Jack sent it crashing through the window, the shattering glass interrupting Steinman's shouting. Jumping through after the box, Jack lit Steinman on fire in order to distract him somewhat so he could get close enough to fill his face with buckshot.

It took a couple shots, and Jack got shot a few times from Steinman's machine gun, but Jack won the fight in the end, a quick hit from a Quik-Heal dealing with his bullet wounds. Finally retrieving the key he needed, Jack sighed and left the room through the doors that were conveniently unlocked now.

"You alright, boyo?" Atlas asked, sounding slightly concerned.

"Yes, Papa." Jack hummed, breezing through some Splicers as he walked.

"Good, good. It was time somebody took care of that sick bastard." Atlas sighed, sounding rather relieved. Jack wondered if maybe Atlas thought his sigh had been one of regret instead of the sound of satisfaction that it in fact had been. "I'm workin' my way to the back side of Port Neptune right now. We'll both be gettin' there soon enough."

The thought of finally meeting Atlas put some extra pep in Jack's step but before he could do anything with that pep, there was a loud crash somewhere far off and the ground shook a bit, making Jack stumble lightly.

"Sounds like another tunnel collapse." Atlas sighed, apparently having also heard the sound from where he was at. "Welcome to Rapture, the world's fastest growin' pile o' junk."

Jack was about to reply when some images suddenly flashing by in his mind made him stop. _A cigarette in his hand, a package in his lap, sitting comfortably in the smoky plane, headed for--_ Jack blinked rapidly as the images dissipated and shook it off, having neither the will nor the time to dwell on what the flashes meant.

Up ahead, Jack saw the path he'd planned on taking was blocked and sighed a bit. There was another door nearby though so he decided to try that before trying something drastic. Luckily, or conveniently, it opened and Jack stepped through, another loud bang coming from up ahead as a dead Big Daddy came crashing through a window and landed in a heap in front of him.

"It's a Little Sister." Atlas practically whispered, sounding almost excited. "Here's your chance to get some Adam."

Walking past the hulking corpse of the Big Daddy, Jack saw a Splicer in the next room trying to corner the now unprotected Little Sister. Before Jack could kill the Splicer and take his place, a woman from up on a balcony shot at him, first catching the Splicer's attention and then killing him. Next, her gun was leveled at Jack.

"Stay away from her or it is you who will be shot next!" She shouted, clearly ready to kill Jack then and there if he took a wrong move towards the cowering child nearby.

"Easy now, doctor, he's just lookin' for a wee bit of Adam. Just enough to get by." Atlas called from the radio on Jack's hip, his tone so very charming to Jack that he was shocked, almost offended, when the woman didn't immediately lower her gun and give in.

"I'll not have him hurt my little ones." The woman shouted, not liking how Jack looked back at the Little Sister if the way she cocked her gun was any indication.

"It's okay, lad, that's not a child, not anymore." Atlas said softly, seeming to mistake Jack's hesitation for a want to not hurt the child instead of a want to not get shot. "Dr. Tenenbaum saw to that." He finished spitefully, drawing Jack's attention away from the cowering child to the woman on the balcony.

"Bitte, do not hurt her! Have you no heart?" Tenenbaum shouted, panicking as Jack decided getting shot would be worth making Atlas proud and began to advance on the Little Sister.

"Aye that's a pretty sermon comin' from the ghoul who cooked up them creatures in the first place." Atlas shot back, his words only spurring Jack on. "Took fine little girls and turned ‘em into that, didn't you? Listen to me, boyo," He said, his voice venomous when he was talking to Tenenbaum and switching to that reassuring, paternal tone Jack loved so much when he was talking to him. "you won't survive without the Adam those-- things-- are carryin'. Are you prepared to trade your life, the lives of my family, for Tenenbaum's little Frankensteins?" Atlas asked imploringly, hammering the final nail into the Little Sister's coffin with his tone.

"Here! There is another way." Tenenbaum shouted, desperate as she tossed a bottle of red liquid to Jack when he turned with the intention to tell her where she could stick her _other way_. Instead he instinctively caught the bottle and examined it curiously. "Use this, free them from their torment. I will make it to be worth your while-- somehow." She said softly, apparently not being able to bear witnessing Jack's choice as she left quickly after.

Looking from the bottle to the Little Sister who was backing away with a terrified look on her face, Jack made his choice. "How do I do it, Atlas?" He asked, cornering the Little Sister and setting the bottle aside.

"You need to get into her stomach. There'll be a slug in there. Rip it out." Atlas informed, his serious tone broken up a bit by an oddly proud undertone.

"Alright." Jack said, doing what he had to in order to get the slug. "Now what?" He asked, holding the wriggling creature and finding that killing the Little Sister wasn't weighing on him nearly as much as he'd thought it would. _Loosen up._ The words weren't even Atlas' anymore, just a gentle reminder in his head not to let things bother him too much. Or maybe his inner voice was Atlas' now. That would explain why it hadn't sounded familiar at first. _Loosen up._ Right, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Atlas was talking.

"Ya gotta eat it." Atlas said, sounding rather grim. "It'll be easier if you bite off the head and then try to chew the rest as little as possible."

"Okay." Jack breathed, swallowing thickly before doing as Atlas said. The taste was-- surprisingly not bad. Sweet and not much else, like diluted liquid sugar. The texture was the hard part, like raw meat but warm and slightly gelatinous. Jack had a hard time forcing himself to swallow something so slimy and wriggly, the squirming not stopping even after he'd bitten the thing's head off. However, for Atlas, Jack managed, feeling an odd warmth in his stomach as his body quickly started to absorb the Adam in the slug.

"That Adam should do the trick." Atlas said, pausing a bit before adding, in a quiet, proud sort of tone. "You did the right thing. Just remember: them things aren't people no more. And it's Dr. Tenenbaum they've got to thank for it."

Feeling a surge of pride at having gained Atlas' approval, Jack almost didn't notice when Tenenbaum's soft voice crackled over the radio.

"How can you do this thing? To a child?" She asked softly, almost sounding like she was going to cry. "There are other Little Ones who have need of your help. Will you be as cruel to them?"

 _Yes_. But she didn't need to know that. Jack's attention was drawn from his radio to a curtain on the other side of the room raising slowly to reveal a vending machine like the ones he'd seen every time he'd found a new Plasmid.

"By the way, if you cross paths with another of them Gatherer's Garden machines, make sure you pick up a new Plasmid or two." Atlas said, his timing impeccable as usual. "That's if the price ain't too dear, of course."

Walking over to the machine, Jack noticed a tape recorder on the floor and hit play while he browsed. He was surprised to recognize the voice that started talking. It was Steinman.

"Not only are those little girls veritable Adam factories, they're nearly indestructible. They regenerate any wounded flesh with stem versions of the dead cells. But their relationship with the implanted slugs is symbiotic; if you harvest the slug, the host will die. "So you see, it's not like killing," Tenenbaum said. "It's more like removing a terminal patient from life support.""

Scoffing a bit, Jack injected the tonics that would make him harder to kill and make his Plasmids less Eve-consuming. How things changed, apparently. Shaking his head a bit, Jack moved on, finding himself back in the Medical Pavilion. He started to walk towards where he needed to go, but the giant, stomping footsteps of a Big Daddy caught his attention. Between stomps, Jack heard the sound of a small voice talking and humming.

"You're ready now, boyo. It's time to take on one of them Big Daddies." Atlas said, seeming to be able to sense Jack's hesitation. "It won't be easy, but it's the only way to get to the Little Sisters and the Adam they carry."

"Right. Okay." Jack breathed, taking a deep breath and levitating a large piece of a column over to himself. As soon as the Big Daddy rounded the corner after the Little Sister, Jack launched the piece of rubble at it with all the force he could muster, the hit knocking the Big Daddy back into the wall and seeming to daze it for a moment. The Little Sister screamed and that seemed to snap the Big Daddy out of it, but by then, Jack had lined up a metal beam and hurled it at the Big Daddy like a javelin, impaling it with the beam and pinning it to the wall.

Looking down at his hand, Jack let out a huff of surprise and smiled broadly. He'd done it. Laughing in disbelief and happiness, Jack ran a hand through his hair, only sobering up when the wailing of the Little Sister reminded him he wasn't finished yet. Huffing lightly, Jack walked over and did what he had to, finding the slug slightly easier to choke down the second time around.

"Good job, boyo." Atlas said over the radio, his proud tone like a shot of straight dopamine for Jack. "There ain't much else that can stand in your way once ya can kill a Big Daddy on your own."

Smiling broadly, Jack picked up the pace, practically jogging through Rapture on his way back to the emergency access point to Neptune's Bounty. He put the key into the machine and pulled the lever again, sighing in relief when an automated voice let him know that the lockdown was now lifted.

"Music to my ears." Atlas sighed from his end. "Hurry up and come on through, boyo. There's no doubt in my mind that you got Ryan's eye now. You won't hear him comin', but he'll be there before you know it." There was some silence as Jack boarded the bathysphere and then Atlas added something that made Jack practically preen. "I'm lookin' forward to shakin' your hand, Jack."

He was so happy that it didn't even occur to Jack that he'd never actually told Atlas his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this fandom is old but I barely discovered it and now I'm obsessed, so fuck it! I'm gonna be one of THOSE bitches posting BioShock fanfiction in 2020


	2. Medical Pavilion Fontaine PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One from Fontaine's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Andrew Ryan, Brigid Tenebaum
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Daddy Kink, Smoking, Drinking, Drug Use, Sadism, Murder, God Complex, Non-Explicit Child Murder

Maybe it was a little cruel of him to send that Splicer in after Johnny, but Fontaine needed to make a good first impression on his Ace. He needed him to see Rapture as a dangerous place and himself as his only way out. It was important enough that Johnny was a necessary sacrifice. Kid'd always been pretty skittish, anyway. Definitely not cut out for the criminal life.

Propping his feet up on his desk, Fontaine took a long drag of his cigarette, giving his Ace time to let the horror he'd just witnessed sink in. He let the smoke out slow and then pulled the radio he'd be using closer. "Would you kindly pick up that shortwave radio?" Fontaine commanded, using his carefully crafted "Atlas" voice and watching from the single camera in the bathysphere as his Ace seemed to come out of his daze and slowly picked up the radio.

"Who-who is this?" Jack asked shakily, the little stutter in his voice making Fontaine scrunch his nose a bit. Nothing like a killing machine who couldn't handle a little blood. He'd get there though, Fontaine just needed to get the ball rolling.

"My name's Atlas. I dunno how you survived that plane crash, but I aim to keep you alive." He said, the fake warmth in his voice working wonders on the kid's shaking. "T'do that, we're gonna have to get you to higher ground."

"O-okay." Jack stuttered, opening the bathysphere door and then hesitating. Fontaine could see him there from one of the other cameras, hovering at the threshold, weighing the options he didn't know he didn't have.

"Take a deep breath and step out of the bathysphere. I won't leave ya twistin' in the wind." Fontaine said softly, the gentle reassurance in his voice seeming to be all Jack needed to suck it up and get a move on. The Splicer he'd unleashed was taking her role very seriously and decided to go for a little bit of terror, running around in the shadows to scare the kid.

Taking another drag of his cigarette, Fontaine let the smoke out and gave Jack another moment to stew in his fear before he spoke up again. "We're gonna need to draw her out of hidin'." He said, making the kid jump. Fontaine almost snickered, but he caught himself, staying committed to his role despite himself. "But you're gonna have to trust me." And if it wasn't harder to not laugh at **that**.

"Alright. I-I'll trust you." Jack stammered, continuing on walking but not getting very far before the Splicer decided to get into it again.

"I'll wrap you in a sheet." Fontaine heard her say from the shadows, making Jack spin around again. While being afraid was going to be great for making Jack trust him, they _were_ on a bit of a schedule and this was starting to take too long. Then there was a loud pop from where Jack was, Fontaine being fairly certain it was a television blowing out. To his surprise, Jack's fear seemed to turn to determination, or maybe anger, and he pressed on without needing a push.

"Just a bit further." Fontaine said, watching as Jack started to climb over some rubble and pressing a button on the control board sitting on his desk. The Splicer came down from the ceiling and Jack froze. The robot Fontaine called in came down shortly after though and chased the Splicer off. "How do ya like that, sister?!" Fontaine shouted, mustering up a gung-ho sort of attitude for his role. He'd promised that Splicer a nice big payout of Adam for playing her part and she'd done just grand. In truth, he was just gonna shoot the junkie, but that was neither here nor there.

As Jack looked around the room, Fontaine decided to give him another little nudge. "Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or somethin'?" He ordered, watching as Jack finally got a move on in order to obey. "Bloody Splicers sealed Johnny in before they-- goddamn Splicers." Fontaine half-choked out, maybe milking it a little but no one could resist a grown man being brought near to tears. It really pulled on the heart-strings.

Waiting patiently as he smoked and Jack rummaged through some rubble, the kid eventually came up with a large wrench. "Think this'll do?" Jack asked, holding the wrench up before giving it a test swing. "It's pretty heavy."

"Looks like it'll do just fine, lad." Fontaine replied, watching as Jack damn near beamed from his approval. Wow. Was it really gonna be that easy? A "good job" here and a "way to go" there and Jack was pleased as punch? This was gonna be easy if that's all it would take. Pouring himself a glass of gin, Fontaine watched Jack wander about, letting him fly on his own for a bit.

Then Jack found a Plasmid and Fontaine sat up a bit. "Hey, Atlas, what's this?" He asked, holding the bottle up to one of the cameras Fontaine was watching him with.

"Ah, that's a Plasmid, lad!" Fontaine said, mustering some actual excitement. Plasmids would help in keeping his Ace from getting too damaged. "Fill that syringe up with it and inject it into your wrist. Trust me, it'll come in handy."

Yes, Fontaine could've just commanded Jack to inject the Plasmid and avoided the wait of watching the kid decide whether or not he was going to listen, but he wanted to periodically test what he could make him do without the trigger phrase. This was test one. Fontaine waited patiently while Jack filled the syringe and hesitated again, grinning as he stuck himself and shot up. Well, they were further along than he'd anticipated. He was already at the point where he could make Jack inject himself with unknown liquids just cuz he asked. That was just fucking grand.

"Steady now! Your genetic code is bein' rewritten, just hold on and everythin'll be fine!" Fontaine called over the radio, watching as the kid stumbled about a bit before collapsing. He closed his eyes as Jack let out a particularly lovely scream before fainting and sighed softly. What a set of pipes. Hopefully the kid didn't end up being too cautious, he could get used to hearing him scream.

While Jack was out, which only ended up being about ten minutes, Fontaine sifted through papers, keeping himself occupied so he didn't get impatient. When Jack woke up, Fontaine set his papers aside and propped his feet back up, settling in for more guiding. "You alright, boyo?" He asked, his tone as gentle as he could make it.

It took a minute for the kid to respond, it looking like he was having a hard time breathing from where Fontaine was at. "Yeah." He eventually replied, making Fontaine smile when he didn't stutter this time. "Yeah, I'm alright."

"First time Plasmid's a real kick from a mule." Fontaine said, injecting some sympathy into his voice. "But, there's nothin' like a fistful of lightnin', now is there?" He asked, rolling his eyes as Jack seemed to only barely notice that his damn hands were sparking. The kid was definitely dense. Fontaine was aware he hadn't paid for brains, but damn. Ryan wasn't stupid so that meant the kid got his brains from his mother. Fontaine hadn't known her personally, but she'd been stupid enough to trust Ryan, so that spoke volumes about what kind of grey matter she'd been working with.

"Holy shit, that's amazing." Jack breathed, laughing a bit and finally getting to his feet. Fontaine had to swallow a snarky comment or two and was about to give Jack some direction since he wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but then Jack surprised him by figuring out how to get the malfunctioning door on the other side of the room open on his own.

"Now that's usin' the ol' noggin, boyo." Fontaine said, pleased that Jack wasn't entirely stupid. "Before you press on, I'm gonna send you somethin' through that there pneumo tube." He'd actually sent it while Jack was passed out, but that wasn't important. Fontaine watched as Jack smiled and retrieved his gifts, putting on the belt and backpack. He was glad the belt fit as good as it did since Jack was decidedly thick with muscle where it counted and thick in other ways on the places where it _really_ counted.

"You shouldn't be shy about collectin' things that look useful. The difference between life n' death can come down to a single med-kit or Eve hypo here in Rapture." Fontaine informed, his tone coming out all serious and shit despite his mildly perverted thoughts. "Poke around, rifle through pockets, do what ya gotta."

"Right." Jack replied, pressing on shortly after. Fontaine was just lighting up another cigarette and getting ready to top off his gin when he heard a crash come from his radio. Looking at one of the screens, he witnessed Jack making his way through a collapsing tunnel and was pleased to know that his Ace had at least **some** instincts.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, Fontaine watched Jack, sitting up abruptly when he saw a flash and some sparks go by one of his screens. "Splicer!" He called as Jack looked around. "Give 'em the combo: zap 'em then whack 'em. One-two punch! Remember, the one-two punch!" He said, mildly alarmed since this was Jack's first real fight but mostly confident that his killing machine could handle a single Splicer.

Fontaine watched as Jack followed his advice but let out a bark of laughter when Jack nearly tore the Splicer's entire jaw off. He covered it up quickly by adding some encouraging words, sounding genuinely pleased because it was indeed quite pleasing that Jack was tapping into his inhuman strength so soon. "Good job, lad! Damn near knocked his head off too. That's one hell of a swing ya got there." Fontaine added, hoping that the praise would help clear up the disturbed look on the kid's face. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a little offended when it didn't.

"Yeah." Was all Jack managed, even having the nerve to shudder a little.

Rolling his eyes, Fontaine decided to change the subject. "By the way, if it starts gettin' hard to use your lightnin', shoot up with one of those blue syringes. It's Eve and it's the fuel that'll keep your Plasmids goin'." He informed, seeing Jack's attention go right for the Eve hypo in the corner of the room. The kid was honestly giving him whiplash. One minute he was dense as brick and the next he was so fast on the uptake he almost seemed psychic. Fontaine would wish the kid would pick a lane but he was afraid he'd pick dense and half a psychic was better than nothing.

"Okay, I will." Jack said, collecting the syringe and heading back out into the hall. Fontaine watched Jack take care of another Splicer, clearly pulling his swing on this one since he only dented their skull. Disappointing, but so long as he got the job done, Fontaine could deal with that. Then Jack finally boarded the elevator he needed to get to higher ground and Fontaine grinned as he mentally ran through his sob story one more time. It was time for an award-winning performance.

"Listen," Fontaine started, his voice coming out real sober in stark contrast to the shit-eating grin he wore. "I've got a family. I need to get them to safety, but the Splicers have cut me off from them. If you can reach them in Neptune's Bounty, then maybe, just maybe--" He trailed off dramatically, his voice all sad and hopeful as he tugged mercilessly on Jack's heartstrings. "I know you must feel like the unluckiest man in the world right now, but you're the only hope I'll ever see my family again. Go to Neptune's Bounty, help me rescue my family, please."

"Oh, Atlas." Jack said softly, stepping out of the elevator as soon as it stopped. "Of course I'll help you. You've already done so much for me, helping you save your family is the least I could do." Fontaine almost gagged. God, what a fucking sucker. Maybe half dense half psychic really was the best combo.

"Thank you so much, lad." Fontaine breathed, putting a little quiver into his voice since that seemed to work. Up ahead, Fontaine saw a Splicer and he rolled his eyes a bit. It was one thing when the fucking crazies were trying to kill Jack but this one was doing her own thing, that thing being treating a gun like a goddamn baby. Like Jack wasn't already skittish enough, he couldn't wait for his reaction to _this_.

The kid paused and then killed the Splicer, taking the gun. "That's-- odd, right?" He asked, making Fontaine roll his eyes again. Couldn't just take it with a grain of salt, had to go being all uncertain and shit.

"Not really." Fontaine sighed, his tone fairly resigned. If this was gonna be how it was all the way to Ryan, this was gonna be one long assassination. "Plasmids changed everythin', y'see. They destroyed our bodies, our minds, most couldn't handle it. Best friends butcherin' one another, babies strangled in cribs. The whole city went to hell." He explained, deciding to keep playing all helpful and informative since the more information he preempted Jack needing, hopefully, the less questions he'd actually get asked.

"Jesus." Jack breathed, cutting through some Splicers before proving Fontaine a damn fool. "I'm not gonna end up like that, am I?"

Ah, never had a plan back-fired so spectacularly so soon after being put into motion. Fontaine was losing his touch. "Nah, boyo. It took years of abuse for the Splicers to end up the way they are." He said, trying for reassuring. Fontaine had just gone to take a drink of his gin when he noticed some Splicers standing in some water and choked on it lightly from swallowing too hard. "Zap those ones in the water." He ordered, sure Jack wouldn't think to do it on his own.

Jack did as he was told right away which gave Fontaine a pleasant little tingle right where he liked it. His ego, pervert. Then Jack decided to take a moment to listen to one of those stupid audio diaries someone left lying around. That was annoying but harmless until some words caught his ears, apparently catching Jack's too if the questioning look he got was any indication.

"Long live Atlas?" Jack asked, looking as confused as he sounded.

The first fucking tape and **that's** the one the kid came across!? Jesus fucking Christ. "I might've been a bit of a public figure once upon a time." Fontaine said quietly, trying for sheepish to cover his annoyance. The kid huffed and kept walking until he came out onto a balcony and stopped again.

"Careful now." Fontaine said, suddenly realizing why Jack had stopped now. "Would you kindly lower that weapon for a minute?" He commanded, searching his cameras for the Big Daddy that must surely be around since there was a Little Sister below Jack. He didn't even get the chance to enjoy seeing Jack put his weapon away mindlessly.

"Is that a kid?" Jack asked, having the good sense to talk quietly.

"She may look it, but don't be fooled. She's a Little Sister." Fontaine began, realizing he really sounded far too cold for the subject matter and injecting something that was probably close enough to indignance into his voice. "Somebody went and turned a sweet baby girl into a monster." He paused, giving up on looking for the Big Daddy and leaning back in his chair. "Whatever you thought about right and wrong on the surface, well, that don't count for much down in Rapture. Those Little Sisters, they carry Adam, the genetic material that keeps the wheels of Rapture turnin'. Everybody wants it, everybody needs it."

Just as Jack was crossing over some beams to get to the other side of the balcony, a Splicer started to corner the Little Sister and then the girl screamed. There was roar shortly after and both Fontaine and Jack watched as a Big Daddy came from nowhere to attack the Splicer. "That's a Big Daddy. She gathers Adam, he keeps her safe." Fontaine explained, annoyed at having not been able to spot the damn thing but trying not to sound it.

It surprised Fontaine when Jack almost came right up to the glass separating him from the massive monster currently bashing the Splicer's head in. Maybe the kid had a pair after all. He didn't even flinch when the Splicer's head finally went through the glass. "You'd think they'd've called them Big Brothers instead of Big Daddies." Jack muttered, making Fontaine snort lightly.

"Aye, that would've made more sense." Fontaine agreed, narrowing his eyes and leaning closer to one of his screens. He'd probably just been imagining it, but he could've swore he saw Jack smile a little. The next second he looked so disturbed that Fontaine was sure he'd imagined it. Jack didn't say anything and simply kept moving. The kid was looking much too disturbed for Fontaine's taste and when he covered his mouth after electrocuting a couple of Splicers, Fontaine decided he needed to speak up. "Startin' to feel sick, lad?" He asked, voice coming out gentle despite how annoyed he was.

"No, I--" Jack seemed to choke, shaking his head. "I'm okay. Thanks, Atlas." Of all the bold-faced fucking lies.

"You're not." Fontaine said, only managing a sliver of concern to cover how annoyed he was. He didn't have time for this. "C'mon now, boyo, you can trust me. Would you kindly tell me what's wrong?"

"I like it." Jack practically whispered, stopping just as he was about to jump down to the lower level of the room and looking like he was having a bit of a crisis now.

"What?" Fontaine asked, unable to mask his surprise and barely suppressing a laugh. Surely he'd misheard. Surely the kid didn't just say--

"I like it. The-the killing. I-I've never-- sh-shouldn't I feel bad? I-- they're people, Atlas." Jack stuttered after jumping down to the lower level. Fontaine wasn't sure what sort of reaction he was on the verge of having to suppress because Jack's path suddenly got blocked and Jack swore as an alarm started blaring.

Gritting his teeth, Fontaine didn't try to hide his annoyance this time. "It's Ryan! Goddamn Andrew Ryan! He found us!" Fontaine shouted, checking a few other monitors and practically snarling. "Dammit, he's shut off all access to Neptune!" Splicers started coming into the room and some of Fontaine's anger drained as he watched Jack curiously.

Sure enough, the kid electrocuted them. He'd swear he heard Jack laugh. Shaking his head, Fontaine decided he'd have time to decide what to do with this information later. "There's another way to get there, head to Medical!" He shouted, frowning and putting some more force into his voice when Jack just stood there. "What're ya waitin' for? Go!"

The kid finally snapped out of it and got a damn move on. He might've breathed out an apology, but Fontaine wasn't interested in apologies. So long as he kept moving, that was good enough. Jack had a moment of confusion, most likely, when his training kicked in and he vaulted over some rubble instead of scrambling over it but he pulled himself out of it and kept moving before Fontaine could get annoyed. Kid had no idea what his body was capable of, but he'd learn. Hopefully he'd stop questioning it eventually.

Just steps away from where he needed to be, Jack got blocked again. Fontaine watched him pull on the door a bit but not even Jack's inhuman strength was going to be able to open the bulkhead. Not yet, he needed more time before he got that far into unlocking himself. "Ah, Christ! You're trapped!" Fontaine shouted, annoyed and frustrated and hurrying to get his control board pulled close. "Gonna try to override the exit from here! Hang in there, boyo!"

And then, as if he didn't already have enough fucking nerve blocking his Ace from getting where he needed to be, Andrew fucking Ryan came on the huge television in the back of the room and started droning on in his typical Andrew fucking Ryan way. God, he hated that man. Jack couldn't get to him fast enough. Fontaine mocked Ryan silently as he made his speech and he quickly flipped switches, pressed buttons, crossed wires, and tried again, trying to hack the door from his end.

He heard Ryan shut the fuck up and at first it was a sweet relief, but then he heard Splicers trying to break into the room. Fontaine didn't have time to look up but he heard it once he finally got the door open and his head jerked up towards the screen. "I got it! Get outta there! Get out now!" He shouted, watching as Jack sprinted from the room and slumping back in his chair as Jack slumped against the door once he was safe.

"Now you've met Andrew Ryan, the bloody **King** of Rapture." Fontaine muttered, more tired than anything now that it was all over. He needed a smoke. And a drink. Maybe a blowjob. Definitely a blowjob.

"Ryan as in "death to Ryan"?" Jack asked, still slumped against the door.

"Yeah, that Ryan." Fontaine admitted, lighting a smoke and taking a drag as the kid ran a hand through his hair.

"Holy shit."

Rolling his eyes, Fontaine went for a stern tone, hoping to motivate Jack without sounding too forceful. "Look, I know it's alot to take in, lad, but you need to find your way to Emergency Access."

"Right, right." Jack muttered, taking a breath before he kept moving. After a bit of walking and blessed silence, he spoke up again. "Look-- about what I told you earlier--"

Deciding not to wait for Jack to figure out what he wanted to say about his little admission that Fontaine had honestly forgotten about, the older man cut in. "You're fightin' for your life down there, boyo." He said soothingly, frowning a bit when his tone didn't make the kid unwind right away. "You've never done anythin' like this before, it makes sense that ya don't know how to feel."

"But-but I do know." Jack stammered, Fontaine watching as he examined a robot blocking a door before he fucking kicked the damn thing so hard it fucking exploded against the wall. Jack was as shocked as Fontaine was but unlike Jack, Fontaine was covering his mouth to keep from laughing. "I-I'm enjoying it." Jack finally admitted as he passed through the door.

There it was. Jack's admission again but of his own accord instead of coerced out of him. Fontaine had commissioned a killing machine, sure, but he hadn't expected a sadistic one. He wondered idly if that was Ryan or Jolene before deciding it had to be all the time he'd spent around Suchong. That guy had been **fucked** upstairs. "Ain't that better than tearin' yourself up over it?" Fontaine asked softly once he decided he should probably say something.

"I-I guess?" Jack muttered, clearly not feeling too bad about everything if the way he carried on carving through Splicers while they talked was any indication.

"Stop beatin' yourself up over not beatin' yourself up, boyo." Fontaine sighed, sincerely not having the patience for moral dilemmas but doing a fucking award-winning job of sounding like he did. "Prolly best just to take your feelin's as they come and try not to dwell too much. A place like Rapture doesn't treat stayin' still to consider things for too long kindly."

"Alright." Jack said, sounding a little better before he triggered another damn alarm. Fontaine slapped his forehead, letting out a quiet groan. Of course. Of fucking course. Why couldn't anything ever be easy?

"If you want to use the Emergency Access, you'll be needing Dr. Steinman's key. He's the one who runs this place." Fontaine informed, not bothering to mask his annoyance at the situation. "Just don't expect him to hand it to you out of the milk o' human kindness. Steinman ain't that kind, and frankly, I'm not even sure he's still human." Maybe if he started trying to emphasize how inhuman most of the people left in Rapture were, it'd help with the kid's guilty conscience. Worth a shot.

"Fun." Jack whined, his verbal reluctance at odds with how easily he then caved in a Splicer's skull. The kid was barely pulling his swings now and yet had the nerve to act like it was all so traumatizing. Jack pulled another lever and took the words right out of Fontaine's mouth as another alarm went off. "Seriously!?"

"Now you've rattled the monkey cage. Here they come!" Fontaine shouted, watching as Jack took a breath and cocked the machine gun he'd just picked up. Raising an eyebrow, Fontaine leaned in a bit and bore witness to an absolute slaughter. By the end of it, Jack was covered in blood and was smiling like the fucking cat who got the canary. The smiling was actually a little creepy, but better than the moping, he supposed.

"You're bleedin', boyo." Fontaine said gently, getting a halfhearted "yeah" for his efforts before Jack seemed to snap out of it and started patching himself up. Jack started by removing his sweater and Fontaine raised an eyebrow at the view that revealed. Goddamn, the kid was ripped. The sweater was frumpy so you couldn't really tell with it on, but Jack had muscles for days. Fontaine could even see Jack's back and chest muscles moving under the thin fabric of his undershirt. If Suchong wasn't currently rotting down in his lab, Fontaine would wire him a bonus.

As Jack folded up his sweater and carried on, Fontaine got to look his fill and couldn't help but let out a low whistle. "Quite the guns you're packin' there, boyo. No wonder ya ain't got no trouble swingin' that wrench." Fontaine hummed, not bothering to cut the appreciative, almost lecherous tone from his voice. He'd always had an appreciation for the male figure. There was no power trip like finding the biggest, toughest guy you could and making him bend to you. Fontaine practically lived for those trips.

"Oh, um, thanks." Jack said, face flushed all shy and shit. Fucking adorable. Jack kept moving and Fontaine decided to give him a break even though he really wanted to see how flustered he could make the kid before he broke.

"You keep an eye peeled for Steinman. The daft bastard's set up shop in the surgery wing. You wanna find him, just follow the blood." Fontaine informed, thinking idly about how he'd give similar instructions to someone looking for Jack. _"Just follow the trail of mutilated corpses, you'll find 'im."_ Fontaine pitied the poor metaphorical bastard looking for Jack under similar contexts. He wouldn't want to be the one, that was for sure.

"Shouldn't be too hard." Jack said, getting shot at by a turret while Fontaine was busy thinking.

"Remember, machines will short out right and proper if you hit 'em with Electro Bolt!" Fontaine shouted, trying to cover for having not warned Jack that the turret was around the corner. Whoops, his bad. Wasn't like his Ace wasn't practically bulletproof.

"Right, thanks." Jack said, not sounding at all like he begrudged Fontaine for his late advice as he took it. Fontaine then had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing loudly when Jack hit the turret with his wrench and just fucking **wrecked** the damn thing. Jack was having a very different reaction to destroying the turret and Fontaine sighed quietly. Back to moping then, apparently. Jack kept moving, but Fontaine could tell he was running on auto-pilot while his mind worked. That was potentially dangerous. He hadn't made the kid for his thoughts, after all.

"Y'seem very tense, boyo." Fontaine said, going for concerned and as warm as he could make his voice go. It was time to put an end to this shit.

"Sorry." Jack muttered, stopping in one of the glass tunnels that connected the different sections of Rapture and looking out of it. "I just-- I can't help but think-- there must something wrong with me." He forced out, his face reflected on the glass for Fontaine to see even as he looked out at the ocean. "Ever since I got here, I-I don't feel like myself."

Ugh. _That's because you don't have a "self", you stupid puppet._ But Fontaine couldn't say that. "Atlas" would never be so cruel. Still, his Ace needed a reality check. This couldn't keep happening. "Would you kindly loosen up a bit, boyo?" Fontaine ordered gently, knowing that such a vague command could potentially backfire spectacularly but willing to take that risk. "You're gonna tear yourself apart if you don't."

As Fontaine watched, Jack visibly relaxed and it made him grin widely. It looked like it worked. If it had any unforeseen consequences, Fontaine could just revoke the order, but for now, he hoped it would at least get the kid moving faster. "I don't know what it is about your voice that makes it so easy to listen to you, but-but thank you." Jack said softly, turning to smile at the nearest camera. "That helped so much, you have no idea."

"I'm happy to help ya, boyo." Fontaine replied, just managing to keep the smug, victorious tone from his voice and shift over to pleased. "We need eachother, after all, don't we? I help you survive this city and you help me save my family. So long as we stick together, we'll be okay. Nothin' else matters." Jack paused at that and Fontaine's smile dipped a bit. Shit. Had that been a step too far?

"Nothing else matters." Jack echoed, seeming to mull that over for a moment before smiling again. "You're right."

Sighing silently in relief, Fontaine finally leaned back and got comfortable. "Atta boy. Keep it movin' now."

"Yes, Papa."

Shit. Fontaine nearly choked on his fucking gin. Papa? Where the fuck had that come from? Did _he_ do that? Fontaine didn't have time to ponder further as he heard the sound of explosives coming through the radio and looked up to find Jack getting pelted by a Splicer. "If you get your hands on one of them Telekinesis Plasmids, you could catch those damn firebombs and toss it right back in that Splicer's gob or anythin' else that might be standin' in your way." He informed, voice coming out a little less "Atlas" than he would've liked since he'd almost fucking choked to death.

"Right, good idea." Jack said, not seeming to notice Fontaine's slip or at least not finding it worth discussing. Unfortunately for Jack, Fontaine wasn't about to extend the same courtesy to his slip.

"So--" Fontaine started, having to pause and mouth the word "laddy" to try and get himself back into the proper "Atlas" voice. "Papa, huh?" Nope, he still sounded too much like himself. The kid had caught him off-guard! What kind of person just flashes their daddy kink at a stranger like that? What kind of person was he for being so into it? Shit, this was going to make their dynamic **real** interesting, wasn't it? Or-- maybe he could use this.

After almost face-planting over something Fontaine couldn't see, Jack got out a response. "Shit. That came out?" He asked, more to himself than Fontaine, it seemed, before running a hand through his hair and speaking up. "Look, I-I'm sorry, I just--"

"Say it again." Fontaine interrupted, eyes narrowing at the screen when Jack hesitated. _Loosen up, kid, come on._

"What?"

"Say. It. Again." Fontaine repeated slowly, barely able to keep up the Irish accent with everything going on in his head. He could use Jack's trigger phrase and make him say it, but he wanted him to do it himself. If Fontaine could foster this new, kinda weird dynamic, it could work wonders for what he could get his Ace to do without using the phrase. Complete submission without having to force it on top of being called "papa"? What man could resist a lure so sweet?

"Papa Atlas." Jack said quietly, his eyes going almost comically wide when Fontaine growled without meaning to. Fuck yes, he could fucking use this.

"Shit, boyo." Fontaine huffed, the breathless tone to his voice not entirely for show. "Didn't know ya were into that." There it was, he'd gotten his voice to stop acting up. He sounded like "friendly ol' Atlas" again without any of his natural Bronx accent getting in the way.

"I wasn't 'til I met you." Jack said, smiling shyly at a camera. Fontaine choked off another growl and took a second to compose himself before speaking again.

"Let's keep movin', boyo. I'm gettin' right desperate t'meet ya." He said, running a hand through his hair. Calm down. He needed to calm down. Getting all worked over being called--

"Yes, Papa." Jack said softly, Fontaine damn near cracking his teeth with how hard he grit them to choke off a groan. He was gonna **wreck** this kid when they met face-to-face. Just, absolutely **destroy** him. Jack finally kept moving and Fontaine took some time to smoke a cigarette and try to get his head straight.

After caving in a whole lotta Splicer skulls, Jack made it to a room with a large camera in it. When it caught him in its red glow, it made its alert sound and Jack ducked for cover as if on some instinct. Or maybe he'd just triggered enough alarms that he knew one when he heard it now. "Security cameras." Fontaine informed spitefully, glaring at the camera as though his glare could pierce the man behind it. "They're not like the little ones that I been watchin' you from, they're Ryan's eyes and ears. Ya get caught by one of 'em for too long and they'll bring a whole heap o' trouble down on ya."

Almost too quick for Fontaine to track him between cameras, Jack popped up, zapped the camera, and hurled his wrench at it so hard that it damn near fucking exploded. At first Fontaine was too shocked to react but then Jack spoke up and broke him out of his stupor. "Problem solved."

Letting out a laugh, Fontaine shook his head. "Good work, lad!" He shouted, pleased as punch by Jack's performance. Not only was the kid really unleashing himself, but he was cracking wise about it. The command to loosen up was really working out so far.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack replied softly, the pet-name and the way he caved in the skull of the Splicer in the next room doing things to Fontaine. Then Fontaine got a lovely view of Jack's round ass as he crawled through a small opening to get to a Plasmid. Maybe he'd have some flowers sent down from the surface once Rapture was his and hold a nice little service for Suchong. The man was clearly secretly a saint, having designed Jack so fucking well. _"Dames and gents, we are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Yi Suchong, the saint of unnecessarily attractive sleeper agents."_ It'd be beautiful.

"A parasite wanders the halls. We rebuild our city, and the doubters send a fly to spoil our ointment." Ryan suddenly boomed from the speakers around Jack, making Fontaine roll his eyes. What a fucking boner-killer. "One thousand Adam to the man or woman who pins its wings." Shit. That wasn't good. Nothing stirred up Splicers like the promise of a fix.

When Fontaine saw which Plasmid Jack was injecting himself with, most of his worry dissipated. Nevermind, those Splicers were fucked. Like Jack wasn't dangerous enough, now he could light shit on fire with a snap of his fingers. "Guess he's talking about me, huh?" Jack asked, quickly working out how to activate his new Plasmid once some Splicers swarmed the room and started trying to get at him.

There was that smile again. It was accentuated by the flames outside the room and the screams of the Splicers burning alive. It was alot less creepy now for some reason. Fontaine was actually starting to like it. "All roads in Rapture lead to Ryan. The security, the Splicers, the Big Daddies, the Little Sisters; he pumps some kind of chemical scent in the air, pheromones they call it, makes 'em all dance to his tune." Fontaine informed once the screaming stopped, keeping the appreciation from his tone.

"Guess not everyone can be charismatic enough to make people listen to them without an extra edge." Jack said, crawling back through the opening once the fire had died down.

"Oh? You think I'm charismatic, boyo?" Fontaine asked, smirking and watching Jack's ass the entire time. This murder-happy, daddy kink having, ego-stroking, perfectly sculpted fucker was really starting to grow on him.

"Charismatic enough to have me wrapped around your little finger after knowing you for-- however long I've been down here." Jack replied, melting some ice blocking the path he needed.

Chuckling lightly at Jack's naked not-quite-but-almost devotion, Fontaine shook his head. "Careful, boyo, you might go gettin' me attached to ya." He mock-warned, able to see the way Jack's eyes lit up hungrily from that statement even with the shitty quality of the cameras he was watching him from. Shit. The kid had it **bad** for him. What a heart-broken little thing he'd be when he learned "Atlas" hadn't been real to begin with. The thought brought a smile to Fontaine's lips and some warmth to his heart.

As Jack stepped into a room, all the lights in the area shut off and Fontaine's smile was immediately displaced by a frown. That probably wasn't good. Then he heard Splicers moving around the room, taunting Jack from the darkness. That was **definitely** not good. Fontaine's smile found him again and he leaned back casually. Not good for the Splicers, anyway.

Sure enough, once the lights snapped back on and the Splicers started attacking, Jack used his wrench and Incinerate to mercilessly slaughter every last one of them. It was fuckin' beautiful and he was even smiling that creepy/sexy smile again.

"That was fun." Jack breathed, shooting up with some Eve as casually as if he hadn't just easily killed seven people and enjoyed it.

If Fontaine's smile got any bigger, he'd split his cheeks. "Glad you're takin' my advice to loosen up to heart, boyo."

"It was getting exhausting worrying." Jack sighed, finally finding the Telekinesis Plasmid and injecting himself with it. "I feel so much better since you convinced me to calm down." Fontaine watched with a triumphant smirk as Jack worked out how to use his new Plasmid. He got the hang of it quickly and even nearly crumpled a trash can like it was nothing more than an aluminum can from throwing it using the Plasmid.

"You should get in some practice with a movin' target." Fontaine suggested, watching Jack have one of his psychic moments as his eyes went right to the tennis ball shooter Fontaine was about to suggest he use for said practice.

"Good thinking, Papa." Jack hummed, pressing the button and easily catching the first ball that shot at him. After a bit more practice, Jack seemed confident in his abilities to catch a moving target and left the room, taking care of the Splicers that had crawled out of the depths of Rapture to try and kill him as he walked back to the room he needed.

Once he arrived, Jack made quick work of the barrier in his way and then the Splicer who'd been so kind as to provide him with the means to do so. Fontaine couldn't help but feel a sense of pride watching Jack work. Even though Jack had been working towards it slowly on his own, Fontaine was really the one responsible for unleashing the beast inside Jack and it felt good to know that the most dangerous force in Rapture was on the fast-track to embracing that title thanks to his meddling.

Two crushed turrets and a broken window later and Jack was filling Steinman full of lead and taking the key from his corpse. When Jack sighed, Fontaine frowned a bit. "You alright, boyo?" He asked, just a tad bit concerned that Jack was reverting back to moping.

"Yes, Papa." Jack replied easily, killing some Splicers as he walked and almost looking serene.

"Good, good." Fontaine sighed, realizing now that Jack's sigh had probably been of pleasure or some shit and not of any of the annoying other emotions Fontaine was trying to turn him off of. "It was time somebody took care of that sick bastard." He added as more of an afterthought, trying to remember to keep up his "Atlas" persona despite how comfortable he was getting. "I'm workin' my way to the back side of Port Neptune right now. We'll both be gettin' there soon enough."

In reality it wouldn't take Fontaine any time at all to get to the area of Neptune's Bounty that he needed so he didn't plan on moving from his chair until Jack was nearly there. Still, solidarity in shared struggle, right? So long as Jack thought he was also moving and risking his neck-- a sudden loud noise from somewhere in Rapture broke Fontaine from his thoughts and he looked at his monitors, quickly finding the source of the sound and sighing. "Sounds like another tunnel collapse." He grumbled, flopping back in his chair and shaking his head. "Welcome to Rapture, the world's fastest growin' pile o' junk."

For someone who was so fucking proud of his precious underwater hellhole, Ryan really hadn't built the damn place to last. When Fontaine took over and finally got the connections he needed on the surface, he'd start raking in the kind of money that'd let him fix the old girl up right and proper a few hundred times over. No more leaks or collapsing tunnels or complacent dictators sitting pretty on their throne of shit and hissing at anyone who tried to clean it up. Fontaine wasn't the kind of man to wallow in complacency, never had been.

Another crash pulled Fontaine from his thoughts again but this time when he looked up, his eyes widened in excitement. That was definitely a dead Big Daddy which meant-- yes! There she was, cornered by nothing but a lowly Splicer Jack would make quick work of. "It's a Little Sister." Fontaine practically whispered, excited to see if he could make Jack do something truly evil without using his phrase. "Here's your chance to get some Adam."

The sound of a gunshot made Fontaine frown and he looked from Jack to see someone he was sincerely hoping would just keep her fucking head down while he was getting done what he needed to. Fucking Tenenbaum. Of course she was going to try and protect her little monsters.

"Stay away from her or it is you who will be shot next!" Tenenbaum shouted, aiming her gun at his own little monster.

"Easy now, doctor, he's just lookin' for a wee bit of Adam. Just enough to get by." Fontaine cut in, annoyed by this kink in his plan but trying not to sound it.

"I'll not have him hurt my little ones." Tenenbaum shouted back, cocking her gun threateningly when Jack looked back at the Little Sister, looking torn.

"It's okay, lad, that's not a child, not anymore." Fontaine said softly, still determined to make Jack commit his worst sin yet of his own free will. "Dr. Tenenbaum saw to that." He added venomously, his anger mostly for show. Fontaine couldn't really hold a grudge against Tenenbaum for creating the Little Sisters since he had been the one to commission them, but it was fun to needle Tenenbaum for her perceived sins. Still, Fontaine didn't have time for anger, not real anger, not for this, not when he was trying to get one of his creations to destroy the other.

Ah, if felt good to play god, even if it was only on such a small scale.

"Bitte, do not hurt her! Have you no heart?" Tenenbaum shouted, panicking as Jack advanced on the Little Sister, seeming to have made his choice.

Now **that** was a little annoying. No one was allowed to manipulate his Ace but him, so it was time to pull off the kid gloves. "Aye that's a pretty sermon comin' from the ghoul who cooked up them creatures in the first place." Fontaine shot, smirking as Tenenbaum flinched at his accusatory tone and biting words. “Took fine little girls and turned 'em into that, didn't you?" He sneered, cutting the venom from his voice as he turned his attention back to Jack.

"Listen to me, boyo, you won't survive without the Adam those-- things-- are carryin'." Fontaine said, not daring to let up on Jack even though he was pretty sure the kid was gonna do what he wanted him to. "Are you prepared to trade your life, the lives of my family, for Tenenbaum's little Frankensteins?" He asked, giving another award-winning performance with his pleading, imploring tone and watching with the most delighted of sadistic grins as Jack clearly made up his mind and moved to finally corner the Little Sister. _That's my boy, come on._

"Here! There is another way." Tenenbaum shouted, tossing a bottle of red liquid at Jack which he seemed to catch by accident, the kid looking at the bottle in confusion, or maybe curiosity, once he had it. "Use this, free them from their torment. I will make it to be worth your while-- somehow." Almost as if she also knew what Jack would choose, Tenenbaum then left, apparently not wanting to see it if Jack decided against being a good person.

Jack looked from the bottle in his hand to the Little Sister on the floor and Fontaine felt another swell of pride when Jack set the bottle aside. "How do I do it, Atlas?" He asked, cornering the cowering child and keeping his eyes on her.

"You need to get into her stomach. There'll be a slug in there. Rip it out." Fontaine informed, trying to sound clinical and serious but noting a proud undertone to his voice that he couldn't quite stifle.

"Alright." Jack said quietly, getting the slug out of the Little Sister fairly quickly and then holding the wriggling thing tightly. "Now what?" He asked, neither sounding nor looking as disturbed as he really ought to have been for killing a child. Good. The "loosen up" command was still working wonders.

"Ya gotta eat it." Fontaine said, cringing a little at the thought and sounding grim. "It'll be easier if you bite off the head and then try to chew the rest as little as possible." He couldn't even imagine trying to choke down one those monstrously large slugs. Fuck all that. Knowing where Adam came from was one of the reasons he himself had never used it. Corpse juice and slug barf, yum fucking yum. Gag.

"Okay." Jack breathed, swallowing thickly before doing what he was told. Fontaine watched in equal parts disgust and fascination as Jack bit the slug's head off and swallowed it whole with what looked like a massive effort. Then he stuffed the rest of the slug in his mouth before the Adam could start oozing from where the head used to be. He chewed a few times, looking sick the whole way, and then swallowed hard, grimacing once the slug was finally down.

"That Adam should do the trick." Fontaine said once Jack was finished, deciding after a bit that perhaps some praise was in order. "You did the right thing. Just remember: them things aren't people no more. And it's Dr. Tenenbaum they've got to thank for it." He added quietly, letting what he hoped was close enough to paternal pride seep into his voice and knowing he'd gotten the tone right when Jack practically beamed.

"How can you do this thing? To a child?" Came Tenenbaum's voice over the radio, making Fontaine roll his eyes. "There are other Little Ones who have need of your help. Will you be as cruel to them?" He better fuckin' be. Fontaine wasn't slowly but surely building up Jack's fucked up side just for him to go soft after killing **one** little girl. Those other brats were screwed as long as Fontaine had a say in it. And, as it so happened, he had the only say in it.

As a curtain across the room started to rise, Fontaine spoke up. "By the way, if you cross paths with another of them Gatherer's Garden machines, make sure you pick up a new Plasmid or two. That's if the price ain't too dear, of course." He drawled, watching Jack wander over to the machine only to get distracted by a tape recorder. Jesus Christ. Hopefully this one didn't have anything too incriminating on it.

The tape ended up being an old log from Steinman that detailed Tenenbaum's feelings towards killing Little Sisters in the early days before she got all _motherly_. If the way Jack scoffed when the tape finished playing was any indication, he was thinking the same thing Fontaine was: "hypocritical bitch". He didn't say anything though and neither did Fontaine as he watched Jack shoot up with whatever he'd bought, not even flinching this time around.

Jack carried on walking right after but was stopped yet again when the stomping footsteps of a Big Daddy started coming from the hall in front of him. "You're ready now, boyo. It's time to take on one of them Big Daddies." Fontaine said, sitting up eagerly as he watched the screen intently. This was the ultimate test of Jack's strength and he was confident that his Ace would come out victorious. "It won't be easy, but it's the only way to get to the Little Sisters and the Adam they carry."

"Right. Okay." Jack said softly, taking a breath before he levitated a large piece of column over to himself. Interesting choice of weapon. When the Big Daddy rounded the corner, Jack hurled the column at it with enough force to knock the thing stupid before the Little Sister it was escorting screamed and snapped it out of its daze. By then, though, Jack had another bit of debris ready and impaled the Big Daddy with a big metal beam he'd gotten off the ground. The Big Daddy's "eyes" went dim and Jack smiled a wide, triumphant grin.

Leaning back in his chair, Fontaine let out a pleased breath. That Big Daddy hadn't even stood a chance. He held off on giving any praise though, Jack wasn't finished yet, after all. It took him a moment, but he realized that and went about finishing what he started. The slug looked like it went down easier the second time which surprised the hell out of Fontaine since he couldn't imagine choking down _one_ of those things let alone **two** within minutes of eachother.

"Good job, boyo." Fontaine praised, smiling proudly and maybe a little wickedly even as his tone only came out proud. "There ain't much else that can stand in your way once ya can kill a Big Daddy on your own." His praise brought a smile to Jack's face and Fontaine lit up a cigarette as he watched the kid practically jog back to the emergency access point to Neptune's Bounty. When Jack pulled the lever, Fontaine held his breath and then let out in a smooth exhale of Eve-laden smoke when an automated voice let Jack know the security lockdown was now lifted.

"Music to my ears." Fontaine sighed, running a hand over his forehead. "Hurry up and come on through, boyo. There's no doubt in my mind that you got Ryan's eye now. You won't hear him comin', but he'll be there before you know it." He paused, watching Jack board the bathysphere and eyeing his ass hungrily as he crawled onto the couches after pulling the lever. "I'm lookin' forward to shakin' your hand, Jack." Fontaine said, looking forward to considerably more than that, but deciding that was a good start.

Realizing he'd slipped up a second after he did it, Fontaine studied Jack for any indication that he realized he'd used his name without ever actually being given it, but the kid looked like he didn't even notice. He was too busy grinning like an idiot to notice such a little inconsistency. The power of boners, right? Still, Fontaine needed to remember to be more careful. Jack wasn't stupid, just a little slow. Eventually he'd catch up and Fontaine needed to be ready for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fontaine is such a bastard, I just love writing him so fucking much.


	3. Neptune's Bounty Jack PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes his way through Neptune's Bounty and then finally gets to meet Atlas face-to-face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Atlas, Peach Wilkins, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Relationships: Jack/Atlas
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Voice Kink, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Praise Kink, Mutual Masturbation, Mild Feminization, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Phone Sex, Murder, Non-Explicit Child Murder, Drug Use, Sadism, Blood and Gore

The door to the bathysphere was sealed tight and the small submersible was moving slowly through the ocean. Jack was currently sprawled out on his back on the seats, taking the opportunity to relax. Atlas' voice coming through his radio made him smile and roll his head on the seat to look at the camera above the door to the bathysphere.

"Could I ask you a favor, boyo?"

"Of course, Atlas." Jack said softly, sitting up slowly.

"Touch yourself."

The command was quiet, practically a growl, and Jack bit his lip softly at the sound of it. He hesitated for a moment before the thought of loosening up rang in his head and he laid back down again. Jack unbuckled his belt and let it fall open before unbuttoning his trousers and unzipping them slowly. Taking a breath, he slid a hand into the opening of his pants and began to rub himself slowly through his underwear.

"Fuck." Atlas breathed, sounding almost pained. "So fuckin' obedient. Didn't even hafta ask ya nice."

That was the first time Jack had heard Atlas swear with something as hard as "fuck" and, given the context, it went straight to his dick. His face was flushed and he was honestly more turned on by hearing how he was unraveling Atlas just by obeying him than he was from touching himself.

"Take it out, lad. I wanna see it."

"Oh, Papa." Jack breathed, quickly removing his hand in order to free himself. He dropped one leg from the seat and shifted his hips, trying to angle himself so he was splayed for the camera he knew was sending his lewd form straight to Atlas as he gripped his rock hard dick and began to stroke.

"Oh, that's a good boy." Atlas groaned, sounding even more strained now. "God, what a pretty little prick you've got, lad."

Cock twitching, though from the compliment or from the slight degradation, he didn't know, Jack moaned lowly. "Oh, Papa. I wish I could see you too. I bet your cock is so thick and perfect. Perfect like you."

"Fuck, that's good." Atlas groaned on the other side of the radio. "That's it, boyo, nice and slow." He practically moaned, Jack's heart stuttering at the sound. "Lift your shirt, lad."

Obeying eagerly, Jack lifted his shirt above his head, tucking the hem behind his neck to keep it up. His hand kept working himself nice and slow, just like Atlas had told him.

"Fuck, boyo." Atlas breathed, the sound of his voice so thick with arousal making Jack's dick twitch hard in his hand. "Ya could crack a man's skull between them tits."

Moaning deeply at the praise, Jack reached up and gave his very well-defined pectoral muscle a squeeze. "Like 'em, Papa?" He asked huskily, hips jerking when Atlas groaned. "Bet I could get 'em close enough for you to fuck 'em." Jack breathed, not really thinking about what he was saying before he said it. "I'd let you too, I'd let you if you wanted."

"Gonna fuck every part of you once we're alone, boyo." Atlas growled, his voice strained from arousal. "Gonna fuck that dirty fuckin' mouth and your perky fuckin' tits and that fat fuckin' ass."

"Papa!" Jack cried, hips stuttering as he came into his hand.

"That's it, boyo, release it all for Papa." Atlas said, groaning loudly a moment later.

After a moment of laying there, Jack wiped his hand on the seat he was laying on. "I can't wait to meet you, Papa." He said softly, lowering his shirt and putting himself away before fixing his pants and fastening his belt again.

Letting out a soft laugh, Atlas took a moment to respond. "Me either, boyo, me either."

The bathysphere docked at Port Neptune shortly after Jack had caught his breath fully and he exited the submersible. As he did so, he was immediately greeted by the sight of a man strung up against the wall with the word "smuggler" written in blood, presumably, above his corpse. As far as first impressions went, it could've been worse, honestly.

"Well, that's something." Jack muttered, examining the corpse for a bit before moving on.

"Aye, that'd be Ryan's doin'." Atlas informed, sounding just a hint disgusted. "He's the one who built this place, and he's the one who ran it into the ground. Nobody knows exactly what happened. Maybe he went mad. Maybe the power got to him. Maybe he just decided he didn't like people. Whichever way you slice it, good men died." He paused, Jack imagining he needed a moment to collect himself since he'd been passionate enough about this at some point to fight against Ryan. "My family's in a submarine hidden in the foundation of Fontaine Fisheries. I'll meet you there."

"I'll be there in no time." Jack said softly, knowing in the back of his mind that he was selfish for wanting more to get to Atlas' family so he could meet the man than to do any family saving. He couldn't will himself to ponder his shortcomings though, the feeling that he should let it go, _loosen up_ , keeping him from doing anything but moving on.

As he walked down a flooded hallway, Jack saw a shadow on a wall and heard a woman's voice. "What crawls in my garden?" She asked, Jack picking up the pace and readying Electro Bolt. By the time he turned the corner on where the shadow had just been, there was nothing but a corpse and some meat hooks lying there. Humming a bit, Jack picked up the meat hooks, hanging them from a loop on his belt, and kept going. Up ahead, some rose petals began to fall from a vent in the ceiling and Jack heard the woman again. "But the days go by like wind."

Feeling a chill run up his spine, Jack hurried under the vent and let out a light sigh of relief when he got out of the hall. His sigh was choked off when he then heard the thundering footsteps of a nearby Big Daddy. This wasn't going to be as easy as it had been last time, Jack didn't have any rubble to use. The only things nearby were crates that surely wouldn't do any damage to the huge creature. Taking a deep breath, Jack readied Electro Bolt in both hands and waited until the Big Daddy came into view.

Loosing the bolt of lightning at the Big Daddy, Jack ran towards the huge creature with his wrench ready and brought it down on the huge monster's glowing "eyes" as it convulsed. When the creature came out of it, Jack jumped back and watched as the Big Daddy swiped blindly for him, its "eyes" too damaged to see now. Taking another breath, Jack took some time to consider his next move while the Big Daddy searched for him. Eventually deciding on a strategy, Jack used both hands and a great deal of strength to catch the Big Daddy in a telekinetic hold. Grunting as he hoisted the Big Daddy up, Jack spun and hurled the massive monster at a wall that didn't lead out into the ocean.

That turned out to be a smart move, because the force of the toss sent the Big Daddy halfway through the wall, its corpse hanging limply where it had landed. Laughing in disbelief, Jack ran a hand through his hair before turning his gaze on the Little Sister wailing for "Mr. Bubbles" to get back up. Smile dropping, Jack did what he had to and consumed the slug once it was done, feeling the rush of Adam in his veins as it was dissolved inside him.

"Good work, lad." Atlas' approving voice came from the radio, making Jack smile again.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack sighed, taking an Eve hypo from his belt and injecting himself with it. He'd felt his Eve stores run dry right as he'd released the Big Daddy to send it flying. If it hadn't been for that tonic he'd bought to bolster his Eve, he wouldn't have been able to win that fight the way he had. Atlas had been right about harvesting the Little Sisters being the right choice, he needed all the Adam he could get.

Jack took care of two turrets that shot at him from under the docks through cracks in the wood with a quick zap of Electro Bolt and a pelting from his machine gun. Pressing on, Jack fought his way easily through five splicers and took care of a missile-launching turret from a safe distance by launching its missile back at it with Telekinesis. Once the fighting was over, Jack walked up to the Gatherer's Garden machine nearby and got more tonics to bolster himself. The same he'd gotten before as well as one that was supposed to make his skin tougher.

A twinkling of blue from under the docks caught Jack's eye and he made a brief detour to collect the Eve hypo, finding on the way there a charred corpse strung up to a pole. Raising an eyebrow, Jack walked over and pressed play on the audio diary nearby, listening to it as he used Telekinesis to bring the Eve to him from beyond the grate he couldn't get past.

"Mr. Ryan asked me personally to make this clear to you. You give us Fontaine, and this whole filthy ring of his, and you'll be knocking back pints up at the Fighting McDonaghs. But if you prefer to play the mule, we'll treat you like a mule. Give him a taste, Patrick." One man said, another man screaming as the sounds of electricity flowing filled the recording. It went on for a bit and then cut off. "Oh, what's that? Change of heart, Timmy? Timmy? Ready to talk now?"

"Go on, Sullivan. Go on and do your dirty! Whatever Ryan thinks he can do to me, Fontaine can do double!" The man who'd screamed shouted back, Jack looking back at the burnt corpse once the recording ended.

"Wow. Must've been real scared of "Fontaine" to let himself get fried." Jack muttered, making his way back to the surface of the docks while killing a total of four splicers that had apparently been attracted by the noise of the recording.

"He was a very powerful man." Atlas said softly, his tone hard to read. "Lotsa people were afraid of him but just as many followed him cuz he had the Adam."

Humming in acknowledgment, Jack finally saw the sign for Fontaine Fisheries and hurried over, knocking on the heavy metal door harder than he'd meant to, the metal denting a little by the third knock. Then Jack heard a familiar voice and spun around, seeing flower petals coming from a vent nearby.

"Who can blame a lady who craves variety?" The voice asked, making Jack frown. "And one day the gentlemen stopped calling."

Readying Incinerate, Jack waited with baited breath and almost unleashed a fireball when the slot on the door behind him slid open noisily. Instead though, he just jumped out of his skin and spun around to look at the person behind the door with wide eyes.

"Atlas radioed on ahead. Says you were looking for an invite to the f-fisheries." The man behind the door grumbled, his voice a far cry from Atlas' beautiful, smooth, perfect-- "Nuts, I say. But, if'n you heads up to the wharf master's office and find ol' Peach a research camera, **maybe** I could manage an invite." The man continued, dragging Jack out of his mental adoration.

"A ca--" Jack was about to argue with the man but then there was scratching from the vent and a soft humming. He spun back around and watched as the petals slowly trickled to a stop.

"W-what was that?" Peach asked, looking through his slot and watching for himself as the last petal fell. There was some grim amusement in his voice when the next words left his mouth. "My friend, **you** are fucked."

"Fuck." Jack muttered, flinching as a shrill scream came from the vent.

"My youth! My rose!" The Splicer screamed, dropping from the vent shortly after and turning her wild eyes on Jack. "I want it back! I want it back!" She screamed in rage, charging at Jack and screaming again but this time in pain as Jack lit her on fire. She backflipped away and Jack stood his ground, noting that she didn't have weapons besides her two meat hooks. When she went to charge him again, Jack filled her face full of buckshot from his shotgun, getting another enraged, pain-filled shriek from the Splicer.

Quite suddenly, or suddenly for Jack because he hadn't heard Peach telling him he was sending in help, a robot appeared and started to pepper the Splicer with gunfire. Seeming to realize she was outnumbered, the Splicer leapt back into the vent, getting chased by the robot as she retreated. Sighing softly, Jack slumped a bit. Normally a blast from Incinerate was enough for a Splicer but this one had taken that, a face full of buckshot, and some machine gun fire and still had enough to run.

"That one's too tough for you." Peach said from his hidey-hole, echoing the conclusion Jack was slowly coming to. "Look on the c-conveyor belt, you'll find something to keep you alive." Jack did just that, watching as a grenade launcher came rolling out towards him. "Now go get that camera and then snapshots of those that crawls on the ceiling. Then I'll let you into the fisheries." Jack sighed and picked up the grenade launcher, realizing he wasn’t getting out of this. "Just remember, sonny friend: I smell an ounce of Fontaine on you, and I'll have you in a b-b-box! Atlas gives you the vouch, but I ain't turning my eye just on his say so!"

Then the little slot was slammed closed and Jack was in the middle of rolling his eyes when Atlas' aggravated voice came over the radio. "Grown man, jumpin' at ghosts." He grumbled, sounding as annoyed as Jack felt. "Fontaine's dead and everybody knows it. In the ground for months, and half the place still jumpin' at his shadow. Christ, even Ryan." Letting out a sigh, Atlas' voice became gentler. "You nevermind all that. We got work t'do."

"Yes, Papa." Jack said absently, making his way towards a path with a sign that said it led to the wharf master's office. On the way, he spotted three Splicers standing in some water and got a small mood lift from watching them convulse under a blast from Electro Bolt. Then he got to play a game of toss with a Splicer who had some explosives on hand. It didn't end well for the Splicer but Jack had fun.

"Ol' Peach seems a decent enough sort, I suppose. No doubt he'll wait until _after_ you've done his errands to stick a shiv in your belly." Atlas mentioned offhandedly, making Jack falter and have to whack the Splicer he was currently killing twice.

"Well, that's pleasant, thank you." He said sarcastically, getting a laugh out of Atlas. Two Splicers and more walking later and Jack came across an audio diary. The other had been interesting, so he picked it up and pushed play, listening to it while he continued to cut through Splicers. When Ryan's voice came from the device, Jack almost tossed it to the side, but something told him to keep listening, so he did.

"Something must be done about Fontaine. While I was buying buildings and fish futures, he was cornering the market on genotypes and nucleotide sequences. Rapture is transforming before my eyes. The Great Chain is pulling away from me. Perhaps it's time to give it a tug."

"Wow." Jack muttered, setting the tape aside once it had ended. "This Fontaine guy seems like he was a real badass."

"A badass, huh?" Atlas replied, sounding mildly amused. "Into that sorta mob boss type, are ya?"

"Maybe a little." Jack admitted, making it to the Upper Wharf. "Not as much as I'm into that sort of civilly disobedient Irishman type, though." He said softly, smiling when Atlas made a sort of choked-off sound like he hadn't been expecting that.

"You're makin' me blush, boyo." Atlas said softly, making Jack's smile widen. It was a little macabre to be smiling so much as he tore through Splicers and turrets, but Jack found he didn't really care when he tried to think about it.

Suddenly stopping, Jack's smile dropped. Humming and stomping. Taking a breath, Jack considered his options and realized he didn't have much of a choice. He couldn't send the Big Daddy through a wall like last time, too many of the walls around the area led out to the ocean, and there still wasn't any debris laying around heavy enough to do real damage. Drawing his grenade launcher, Jack examined it a bit and decided it could work.

When the Big Daddy came into view, Jack fired. The monster roared in rage as Jack reloaded and he managed to get another shot off before he had to jump out of the way of a speeding drill. Tossing the grenade launcher aside, Jack pulled out his shotgun and danced around the massive creature's swings as he pumped it full of lead. It took every shot in the chamber, but Jack wasn't any worse for the wear by the time the fight was over. He was breathing a little harder, sure, but he'd managed to avoid the massive drill that the Big Daddy kept swinging at him, so being a little short of breath felt like a win.

Taking a moment to reload his shotgun and grenade launcher, Jack put the weapons away and took care of the Little Sister, the meat hooks he'd found helping with the slug extraction a great deal. The texture of the slug still bothered Jack a little and the wriggling was still the biggest hurtle to get over, but he was actually starting to like the taste. He could only hope he'd get used to the rest of the process over time as he felt the wriggling body slide down his throat.

"First time I seen you fight one of those without completely wipin' the floor with it." Atlas said, sounding impressed and making Jack forget all about the unpleasantness of the slug still moving in his stomach as he beamed. "Good to know you can handle yourself even when they get a chance to fight back."

"I think you just like watching me fight." Jack accused playfully, earning a light laugh from Atlas.

"Can you blame me, boyo?" Atlas asked, grunting softly as Jack whacked a lock that was keeping him from where he needed to go and broke it easily. "Ya should see your muscles goin' when you’re movin'." There was a pause as Jack caved in the skull of the Splicer waiting for him beyond the gate he'd just opened. "S'like watchin' art."

Blushing darkly, Jack laughed softly, feeling happy and light despite the copious amounts of violence he'd been taking part in since arriving in Rapture. "Now you're making me blush, Papa." He mumbled, zapping two security cameras before destroying them with his wrench.

"I can see that." Atlas said, sounding amused. Jack walked up some stairs and saw a sign that said he was getting close to the wharf master's office. Atlas apparently saw it too, because his voice was more serious when he spoke again. "The research camera looks just like one you'd see topside. Accordin' to this magazine article I scrounged up, it can also "analyze genetic information, parse biological structures," and lots of other five-dollar words." Atlas said, making Jack smile as he imagined Atlas rolling his eyes at the scientific jargon.

"Alright. Thanks, Papa." Jack said, breaking a few more locks, zapping a few more turrets, and finally finding the camera after crawling through a hole in a wall. He picked it up off the desk it was on and examined it for a bit. When his radio crackled to life, Jack smiled, but it was quickly replaced by a frown when the voice that came over the air wasn't Atlas’.

"Good, you got the camera. Now get me some snap snaps of those Spider Splicers! And don't come back down here 'til you got my research!" Peach shouted, making Jack sigh deeply.

There was a Spider Splicer trapped in the room beside the one Jack was in, separated from him by a window, so he went ahead and took his picture. The Splicer didn't even notice so Jack left after he got the shot, jumping lightly when an explosion came from somewhere in front of him. Going forward slowly in anticipation for whatever had caused the explosion, Jack found another Splicer, this one on fire. Just like the last Splicer Jack had come across who was on fire, he was more interested in trying to kill Jack than putting himself out.

A quick whack with his wrench took care of one problem but then another presented itself in that there was no path available for Jack besides one that involved him jumping out of a window. Well, at least the window was already broken. Shrugging a bit, Jack jumped out of the window, landing with a heavy _thunk_ on the metal roof below. He was half surprised he hadn't dented it but he supposed it was because he hadn't actually fallen very far. Maybe if he'd fallen from more than a few feet, he would have.

Jumping down to the next roof below the first, Jack noticed a Splicer seemingly taunting a security camera. It was kinda funny but not as funny as both of them blowing up when Jack launched a grenade at them. When Jack looked around, there were two ways down. One way involved platforming down to crates full of rotten fish and the other way would probably be bad for his bones. After a moment of trying to figure out which was more pleasant, Jack glanced down at his hip. "Atlas?"

"Yeah, boyo?"

"Can med-kits heal broken bones?" Atlas made a choking sound and Jack felt a bit bad.

"Well, sure, but--"

Jack jumped, landing with a thud and-- nothing else. Straightening up slowly, Jack realized he was fine. It hadn't even hurt. "Huh. Thanks, Papa, but I guess I didn't need to worry. That fall must not have been that high after all." He glanced back up and frowned. No, it looked as tall from the ground as it had looked from up above. Did it just take more than Jack thought to break bones? Surely not since he caved in skulls like it was nothing with just a wrench. So was he strong or were bones fragile? Were-- did he have strong bones? Like, abnormally--

"Well, since you're done givin' me a heart attack, let's keep movin'." Atlas huffed, indeed sounding a bit frazzled.

"Sorry, Papa, I didn't mean to scare you." Jack mumbled, feeling guilty. "I'm fine, though." He kept walking as he spoke, going for the only door available and finding himself in a flooded area that was also, somehow, on fire. Good old Rapture. "It didn't even hurt."

"It's alright, lad." Atlas sighed, his forgiveness making Jack's shoulders relax even as he destroyed a security camera and killed two Splicers in a walkway. "Just focus on gettin' them pictures for ol' Peachy so we can get the hell out of this place."

Something about the slight annoyance in Atlas' voice brought something to the forefront of Jack's mind and he couldn't force it down anymore. "The fucking nerve of Peach, anyway, honestly." He suddenly grumbled, choosing the path on the left. "I mean, if you told **me** to receive a guest, I'd roll out the red carpet for them, not send them on a hunt for **photographs**." Jack carried on, capturing a Spider down the path he'd chosen just before it escaped through a hole in the ceiling. The camera snapping caught the attention of two other Splicers, but they were soon very dead.

"Would ya now, boyo?" Atlas asked, his tone decidedly amused now, which did make Jack feel a little better even as he ventured further into the area in the pursuit of a Big Daddy he could hear stomping around.

"I would!" Jack replied, stopping short and stepping back a bit as he caught sight of the Big Daddy. It didn't have a Little Sister. "I mean, it's one thing not to trust me, but not trusting **you**? If you told me to jump off a cliff, I'd trust that there was a damn good reason and a perfectly survivable fall in store for me." He said, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewing it a bit in frustration as he watched the Big Daddy bang on a hole in the wall.

There was a half-choked little sound that crackled over the radio and Jack paused, frowning at his hip in concern. Had he gone too far? It was sort of hard to control how much he shared with Atlas now that there was the ever-present reminder to loosen up in his head keeping him from thinking too hard about some things. "Papa? Are you okay?" There was silence for a short time, a far too long time for Jack, and then Atlas spoke up, sounding just the slightest bit strained.

"Yeah, boyo, I'm alright. Just stubbed m'toe is all."

Still looking concerned, Jack nodded slowly. "Alright." He muttered, not really able to spend more time being concerned when a Little Sister came scrabbling out of the hole. Oh. So that's where they came from. Neat. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, Jack switched to Telekinesis in both hands. Focusing on one of the Big Daddy's legs, Jack tried to crush it. It took him a moment to figure out how exactly to translate the thought into action and it made Jack wish he would've thought to practice it on a trash can or Splicer first, but eventually the Big Daddy roared in pain, having been pulling on its leg uselessly before Jack actually managed to crush it.

Huffing out a surprised laugh was the wrong decision because it drew the Big Daddy's attention to him instantly, but Jack was faster since the Big Daddy was crippled now. Capturing the huge creature’s other leg in his telekinetic hold, Jack crushed it as well. The Big Daddy roared again but now it couldn't do much more than try to drag itself towards Jack with its hand and drill. Smiling to himself, Jack easily moved around the Big Daddy to the cowering Little Sister and snatched her up, moving far enough away with her that the Big Daddy would never get to her in time.

The Big Daddy roared and wailed as Jack extracted the slug from the Little Sister, but he might as well have been deaf for the good it did. Then he was swallowing the slug down and finding that the texture wasn't so bad anymore. The wriggling was still a problem, but he'd get past it, he was doing good at getting past the unpleasant parts of eating the Adam slugs. On the way out, Jack snatched a diary that caught his eye and played it, humming in interest when he recognized the voice from the recording with the charred man.

"I'm closing in on the whole ring. I'd pat myself on the back, but let's face it, these aren't exactly bloodthirsty desperadoes we're talking about. Rapture's full of poets, artists, tennis players, not hired guerrillas. But this leader of theirs, this Fontaine-- he seems to know his way around a grift. He keeps his nose clean, but not so clean that the right people don't know he's not to be trifled with."

Smiling, Jack dropped off the diary at the exit of the area and started for the right path. "I'm surprised Fontaine didn't manage to off Ryan. Seems like he had the connections for it." He said idly, capturing his third Spider on film before she could scramble away on the ceiling like the last one had. Weirdos.

"Guess he just didn't manage to get an ace in the hole before he got offed." Atlas replied, his tone hard to read.

The term "ace in the hole" made Jack pause for some reason but he snapped out of it in time to kill the two Splicers that were riled up by his picture taking. Why had that stood out to him? Shaking his head, Jack decided it wasn't worth overthinking. He'd probably heard it recently on the surface and that's why it stood out to him. It was an uncommon enough phrase that hearing it again after hearing it recently would make it stand out. Yeah, that made sense.

"Anyway, I think that should about do it." Atlas said, his voice shaking Jack out of the last of his thoughts. "Head on back to Fontaine Fisheries now."

"Yes, Papa." Jack replied contently, finding that a new path had been blown open by a Splicer with some explosives when he made it back to where he needed to be. He used the explosives she provided to kill all the other Splicers in the room and then her, shooting up quickly with an Eve hypo once he was done. Back on the docks, Jack passed the Gatherer's Garden machine and stopped at it, picking out a few more tonics that would make him harder to kill and bolster his Eve since the Plasmids it had on offer kinda sucked.

Just as Jack was finishing up his purchase, he heard humming and looked around. It sounded like-- the first Spider he'd gone against dropped from the ceiling in front of Jack and he followed his first instinct, setting her on fire with one hand and electrocuting her with the other. While she convulsed and burned, Jack took out his shotgun and it only took him a few shots since she was still injured from their last encounter to kill her. After she fell, Jack slung his shotgun back over his shoulder and looked down at his hands in surprise, watching the two different Plasmids crackling in his palms. He didn't know he could use two at a time, he hadn't even thought to try.

"They sure go down easy once you research them up right. Come on in and show us those snappy snappies." Peach crackled over the radio, sounding appreciative and then impatient. Jack rolled his eyes and kept moving. Sure, it was the pictures that he hadn't even looked at after capturing and the data that he hadn’t spared a glance that helped him kill that Splicer and not his own abilities. Whatever you say, _Peach_. Jackass.

Huffing softly, Jack knocked on the door to the fisheries, choosing a different spot and accidentally denting it again since his mind was elsewhere. The slot opened up and Peach looked him over, grunting. "The wharf rat didn't get himself et. You got something for me and my crew, or are you just looking to get criticized? You set here a sp-spell. I needs to put on some coffee. Maybe puts on silverware and the like." Peach said, laughing at his own jokes before closing the slot.

Before Jack could start giving serious consideration to trying to break the door down, Atlas' voice coming through his radio distracted him. "Before you head into the fisheries, a word to the wise: ol' Peachy seems about as straight as a dog's hind leg. You keep your eyes open."

"I will, Papa." Jack said softly, walking into the fisheries once the door finally opened and finding Peach wasn't there.

"Nobody walks into my swampy carrying the heat. Put your weapons in the pneumo, and then I'll let you in." Peach said over his radio, making Jack roll his eyes. Not like he needed his weapons anyway.

"If that's his price, you're gonna have to pay it. But he can't very well take your Plasmids away, now can he?" Atlas said, sounding slightly annoyed and then almost coy, dare Jack say smug.

Smiling to himself, Jack put his weapons into the pneumo tube and switched his Plasmids to Telekinesis since it was the least visible. As soon as he was "unarmed", the door that would let him go further opened and Jack entered a room that made him miss his sweater a little. He didn't get very far before the room started to fill up with smoke or steam, he wasn't sure which, and Peach's voice came from somewhere in the mist. Jack vaguely heard the door behind him slide closed and click locked past Peach's voice.

"Now, I bet when your boss waggled out of Hell, he done told the Devil he'd be right back, and the Devil says "Sure thing, Mr. Fontaine. I'll hold you a spot.". Ryan promised Fontaine was dust, and now here you are, doing his dirty. I guess that makes Ryan a bum and you a--" Peach suddenly cut off and Jack raised an eyebrow. Well, he supposed it didn't matter what that made him, because Peach was about to be dead.

Holding his ground, Jack waited for something to happen and only had to wait a few seconds before Splicers descended on him from the mist. Breaking icicles off the frozen pipes and such around the room, Jack continued to stand where he was and took care of the Splicers that came at him, impaling them through with the icicles in a flurry of ice and blood. There were six Splicers total all dead now and Jack finally moved, impaling a camera and then a turret that beeped and trilled at him respectively as he walked by.

The icicles were still floating around Jack when Peach decided to come out of the, by then barely there, mist. He was armed with molotovs but every one he hurled at Jack got thrown back at him easily, followed by a bombardment of icicles. Some he managed to melt with a well-timed molotov, but others hit their mark. Peach was tough, but Jack was tougher and soon nothing but Jack was left moving in the frozen room.

Letting out a puff of visible air, Jack tested his Eve stores and found they were still good for a few more uses. Seeing a pneumo tube on the way down to where he needed to be, Jack got his weapons back. He took everything but the stupid camera, deciding it could rot in the frozen room with the man who'd wanted it so damn badly.

"The submarine bay was only used by smugglers n' thieves. More 'an likely the entrance'll be hidden, better to keep the coppers off the scent." Atlas informed, sounding a little breathless. Jack assumed it was because he was also on the move and didn't think anything more of it.

"Right." He said, melting some ice blocking a door and walking through it. The door led him to a couple of Splicers and not much else and as Jack was heading for the other door in the room, he passed a station he hadn't seen yet. _Power to the People_. Investigating, Jack found he could upgrade one of his weapons and went for the damage upgrade for his shotgun.

Melting the ice on the next door, Jack walked through and did some poking around. There was more ice to be melted and that's when Jack found a suspicious hole in the wall. "Ya found it!" Atlas said excitedly as Jack crouched a bit and entered the tunnel. "Should be smooth sailin' from here. I'll meet you up ahead."

Feeling a familiar spark of excitement as the thought of finally meeting Atlas settled in his head, Jack picked up the pace and almost tripped when the picture he had of his family back on the surface that he kept in his wallet flashed through his mind. Shaking his head a bit, Jack frowned. That was weird. He hadn't really thought of his parents since he arrived in Rapture. When he thought about it, Jack didn't really want to go back to the surface. When he thought about it, Jack wanted to stay in Rapture, stay with Atlas, stay with his Papa.

Shaking his head again, Jack hurried on, quickly moving past a flooded area and starting lightly when Atlas' voice crackled over the radio. "I'm right outside the submarine bay, but I can't get in. I'll need you for that. My family can't be more than a hundred yards away." He said, sounding slightly desperate now that his family was practically within his reach.

"I'm on it, Papa." Jack breathed, picking up the pace again and throwing his wrench at a turret in the next room he wound up in. He pulled it back to him with Telekinesis and caught his first sight of the submarine beyond some rocks when he exited the room. As tempted as he was to clamber over the rocks and get to the submarine, he had a job he needed to do and kept moving.

"There should be a switch up there in the control booth that'll let me in." Atlas said, sounding almost antsy now. "I think it's high-time we shake hands and get acquainted." He added, Jack swearing he could hear a smile in his voice.

As he was crawling under some rocks, a decidedly less pleasant voice assaulted Jack. "You've had your fun, but enough is enough. If you press that button, you'll learn what it means to truly be my enemy." Ryan threatened, earning a bark of laughter from Jack as he easily climbed over some large rocks.

After breaking the lock keeping him from the control center, Jack stood before the switch and flipped it without a second's hesitation. Ryan could go fuck himself. As the switch fell into place, an alarm sounded and both the doors leading to and from the room slid shut and locked. Shit. Down below, Jack saw Atlas run into the room with the bathysphere and let out a sigh of relief. It didn't matter that he was trapped for now so long as Atlas could get his family.

"You blow a fuse up there? Can't see a damned thing in that booth." Atlas called over the radio, Jack watching him peer at the room he was in.

"I think it was Ryan. I'm alright, Papa." Jack assured, placing his hand on the large window even if Atlas couldn't see it.

"Just give me a tick and I'll get you outta there." Atlas assured, moving over to the controls on the submarine port.

"Take your time, Papa." Jack said gently, content to stay put and watch Atlas work. Worst case scenario, he'd go crashing through the window to get to Atlas. It probably wouldn't hurt too bad since the last high place he'd jumped from hadn't hurt even a little.

"So dark in here." Ryan suddenly said from a speaker in the room, making Jack groan. "If only your--" A pause, followed by a decidedly disgusted scoffing sort of sound. "-- _Papa_ could look up and see you." Suddenly Jack's eyes were drawn to some small rocks falling from the ceiling in the room Atlas was in. "Maybe you could warn him." Spiders. Reaching for his radio, Jack pulled it close and almost dropped it when a burst of static was all that greeted him. "If only you could do something, anything," There was a small explosion in the room Atlas was in and a column fell in front of the window Jack had been looking out of, obscuring his view as more Spiders climbed down the pillar. "except just stand here and watch him die." Ryan finished, sounding quite pleased with himself.

"--amn Splicers!" Atlas cried over the radio, the feed suddenly working again.

That's what it took to snap Jack out of it. Without thinking, Jack took a few steps back and threw himself out of the window. He felt glass stick into his arms and cut his face but he didn't care as he landed on the pillar and leapt down, not feeling it if the fall hurt his legs at all. He vaguely registered Atlas shouting in surprise at his sudden arrival, but there was so much blood pumping in his ears that it was hard to know what he said. "Get your family, Atlas." Jack said calmly, shooting up with an Eve hypo quickly as he got Telekinesis ready in both hands. "I got the Splicers."

There was a pat on his shoulder, but Jack couldn't really enjoy it as he started tearing through the Splicers that had descended upon his Papa. It was a new feeling, ripping someone apart with Telekinesis and Jack found he rather liked it. It was a sort of learning curve, finding the perfect way to get ahold of a Splicer to really tear them in half. Length-wise was different from width-wise and if he had to catch one mid-air, that was different from catching one that was on the ground.

"Goddamn door is jammed!" Atlas grunted after a bit, trying fruitlessly to turn the wheel on the bathysphere door.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jack took off his machine gun. "Here!" He shouted, tossing Atlas the gun when the older man looked over. "Hold them off, I'll get the door. It won't take long." Jack assured, trading places with Atlas and turning the wheel on the bathysphere door too violently. It snapped off and Jack practically snarled at it, tossing it aside and knocking a Splicer's head clean off without meaning to. Forgetting in his adrenaline-fueled rage that he had a wrench that would've probably helped, Jack punched the metal around the bathysphere's door a few times until it dented in enough that he could get his fingers around the edge of the door.

Jack's knuckles were bleeding by then and his hand was throbbing but he barely noticed. That wasn't important, Atlas' family was important. Planting his foot on the bathysphere for leverage, Jack heaved with all his strength, the bathysphere door ripping clean off its hinges after a bit of sustained tugging. Jack threw the door aside and quickly stepped back up to Atlas. "Go ahead." He said, offering Atlas a smile and taking his gun back when the man gave him a grateful smile and hurried back over to the bathysphere.

Putting his machine gun away, Jack continued to use Telekinesis to tear apart the Splicers that were clearly hellbent on dying. There were so many of them. Why was Ryan so determined to keep Atlas from his family? Clearly Atlas had lost whatever rivalry they'd had, wasn't that enough? Eventually Atlas tapped Jack's shoulder twice and pointed behind himself when Jack looked.

"C'mon, boyo, it's time to get outta here."

Nodding once, Jack shot up with another Eve hypo and used the large pieces of rubble lying around the room as a barricade to block the Splicers from following them as he and Atlas retreated. Atlas led him to another bathysphere a decent distance from the carnage they'd left behind and quickly boarded. Jack climbed in after and one of the men he'd helped rescue secured the door, another pulling the lever to get the bathysphere moving.

Sighing deeply, Jack slumped in his seat, smiling tiredly at Atlas when he flopped down beside him. He opened his mouth to say something, but his radio crackling to life interrupted him. "You ooze in like an assassin--" Jack flicked off the radio quickly, scrunching his nose at it. Ryan was **not** going to ruin this moment by talking.

His expression got a chuckle out of Atlas and the older man cupped his cheek, getting him to look at him instead of glaring at his radio. "It's real good to finally meet ya, Jack." He said softly, his smile exactly as charming as Jack had expected it to be.

"I was just thinking the same thing." Jack said softly, gazing at Atlas' captivating blue eyes and feeling his heart skip when Atlas leaned closer to him, a frown suddenly playing his handsome face.

"You're all cut up, boyo." Atlas muttered, reaching into his pocket and taking out a handkerchief. He dabbed at Jack's cuts and Jack melted, his eyelids fluttering as he allowed himself to be doted on.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack whispered, gripping Atlas' hand when he went to pull away. One of the men in the submarine coughed and suddenly the thick air that had been building up between them dissipated. Atlas smiled sheepishly, cleared his throat softly, and leaned back a bit, taking his hand gently from Jack.

"This is my family, boyo." Atlas said, motioning around the sub and smiling. "They're more found family than biological, but they're family nonetheless and I really can't thank you enough for helpin' me save them."

Smiling happily, Jack gave Atlas a nod. "Family is family, Atlas." He glanced around the sub and found the men who were actually looking at him looked uncertain and the others wouldn't meet his eyes. "It's nice to meet all of you." He offered, feeling slightly self-conscious. It occurred to Jack suddenly that a normal person wouldn't have been able to punch in metal without breaking their hand or jump from the height that he had without breaking their **everything**. He didn't know how or when he'd become so strong, so resilient, but he'd been avoiding thinking about it thanks to Atlas' suggestion to loosen up. Now it was sort of staring him in the face and there wasn't anywhere else to look.

It became much easier to not think when Atlas started doting on him again, making small fussing noises as he picked pieces of glass out of Jack's arms and chest and dabbed at the bloody areas he could reach with his handkerchief. "You're so reckless, lad." He muttered, sounding slightly scolding. "Jumpin' outta windows and fightin' hoards o' Splicers like it's nothin'." Atlas reached into Jack's pack and shot him in the arm with a med-kit needle. "You're lucky you're so tough."

Jack took it all with a light smile, wanting to feel bad for making Atlas worry, but enjoying the feeling of the older man's sure hands patching him up too much to really feel guilty. Still, when Atlas met his eyes and gave Jack a pointed frown, Jack looked down sheepishly, unable to hide how his smile got wider. "Sorry, Papa." He breathed, laughing softly when Atlas huffed and lightly cuffed his arm.

"No you're not, ya cheeky thing." He muttered back, a smile playing his own lips now. Then he leaned closer to Jack's ear and his voice dropped, becoming husky and deep. "But ya will be when I put you over my knee and tan that lovely round ass o' yours." He growled, leaning back again like nothing had happened as Jack flushed darkly and tried to hide his sudden erection with his backpack.

Suddenly the bathysphere seemed like it was moving so slow and slower still when Atlas casually wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing the shoulder his hand rested on. Even though he felt like he might explode, Jack leaned into Atlas and prayed to whoever might be listening that the little submersible would _move faster_.


	4. Neptune's Bounty Fontaine PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 but from Fontaine's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Peach Wilkins
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Voyeurism, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Praise Kink, Mild Feminization, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Smoking, Drinking, Non-Explicit Child Murder, Drug Use, Sadism, Murder, Blood and Gore

The door to the bathysphere was sealed tight and the small submersible was moving slowly through the ocean. Fontaine was leaning back in his chair, his eyes wandering up and down Jack's body as he laid sprawled out across the couch of the bathysphere. An idea suddenly came to Fontaine as he was considering what a fine specimen Jack was and he pulled his radio closer.

"Could I ask you a favor, boyo?" He asked, watching as Jack turned to the camera above the door with a smile.

"Of course, Atlas." He said, starting to sit up before Fontaine's next words made him freeze.

"Touch yourself." Fontaine wasn't entirely sure this would work. Surely there had to be a line that "loosen up" wouldn't cross? Jack hesitated and Fontaine was sure he'd found the line, but then he laid back again and took his belt off. Eyes widening a bit in surprise, Fontaine scooted a little closer to the screen as Jack began to rub himself slowly through his underwear.

"Fuck." Fontaine slipped, his cock suddenly straining against his trousers. "So fuckin' obedient. Didn't even hafta ask ya nice." He quickly freed his cock and began to massage it slowly as he watched Jack's face get darker with what was probably a blush. Damn these stupid, shitty cameras for not having color. "Take it out, lad. I wanna see it." Fontaine ordered after a bit, deciding color or not, watching Jack rub himself through his briefs just wasn't going to do it for him.

"Oh, Papa." Jack breathed, making Fontaine's cock twitch in his hand. He did as he was told, adjusting himself on the seat and everything so Fontaine had the perfect view as he started to slowly stroke himself properly.

"Oh, that's a good boy." Fontaine groaned, his arousal straining against his fake accent. "God, what a pretty little prick you've got, lad." Of all the reactions he expected calling Jack's dick "little" to get him, a soft moan wasn't one of them.

"Oh, Papa. I wish I could see you too. I bet your cock is so thick and perfect. Perfect like you." Jack moaned, the adoration going straight to Fontaine's cock.

"Fuck, that's good." Fontaine groaned, loving more than anything Jack's misguided devotion. "That's it, boyo, nice and slow." He guided, speeding up a bit even as he kept Jack moving slowly. "Lift your shirt, lad." Jack obeyed, lifting his shirt and tucking it behind his head to keep it up. "Fuck, boyo." Fontaine breathed, eyes roving Jack's chest hungrily. He'd been dying to see the muscles under Jack's shirt since he first took his sweater off and he wasn't disappointed. "Ya could crack a man's skull between them tits."

Jack moaned and Fontaine watched with hungry eyes as he reached up and gave one plump tit a squeeze. "Like 'em, Papa?" Jack asked huskily, making Fontaine groan. "Bet I could get 'em close enough for you to fuck 'em." Holy shit. "I'd let you too, I'd let you if you wanted." _Holy shit_.

"Gonna fuck every part of you once we're alone, boyo." Fontaine growled, stroking himself with abandon as he chased his fast-approaching release. "Gonna fuck that dirty fuckin' mouth and your perky fuckin' tits and that fat fuckin' ass." Maybe he was being a little vulgar for "Atlas", but Jack seemed into it and Fontaine wasn't having any luck trying to control himself.

"Papa!" Jack cried, hips stuttering as he came into his hand.

"That's it, boyo, release it all for Papa." Fontaine huffed, groaning loudly a moment later as he also came. After a moment of heavy breathing on both of their parts, Jack was the first one to speak up.

"I can't wait to meet you, Papa."

Laughing softly, Fontaine shook his head and put himself away, taking a moment to take a drag of a freshly lit cigarette before speaking. "Me either, boyo, me either." He admitted, finding himself looking forward to getting to his trapped crew more so he could finally fuck Jack into oblivion than so he'd have some people to get things running properly.

The bathysphere docked at Port Neptune shortly after Fontaine had fully regained control of himself and Jack exited the small submersible. When Jack let out a morbidly amused "well, that's something", Fontaine turned his attention to his cameras and sighed silently, forcing himself to muster some anger or something for his role even though all he wanted to do was smoke and relax.

"Aye, that'd be Ryan's doin'." He informed, ending up with disgust. "He's the one who built this place, and he's the one who ran it into the ground. Nobody knows exactly what happened. Maybe he went mad. Maybe the power got to him. Maybe he just decided he didn't like people. Whichever way you slice it, good men died." Fontaine paused, taking a drag of his cigarette and giving Jack a moment to process all that. "My family's in a submarine hidden in the foundation of Fontaine Fisheries. I'll meet you there."

"I'll be there in no time." Jack said softly, getting a move on as Fontaine smiled to himself. He wondered if it was what little of Jack's personality he'd managed to develop without interference that made him such a sucker or if that was the mental conditioning. Either way, the fact that his heart seemed to bleed exclusively for Fontaine, or "Atlas", more appropriately, was just about the most convenient thing that'd happened so far.

The unhinged mutterings of a Splicer crackled over the radio as Jack moved, but Fontaine barely paid it any mind. His Ace could handle it. It was only curiosity that even made him look up when the next thing that came over the radio was the stomping footsteps of a Big Daddy. Again, he wasn't worried, but it had been interesting to watch Jack the last time, so Fontaine decided to pay attention.

This fight was indeed also interesting. Jack first dazed the massive beast with Electro Bolt and then blinded it with his wrench. He was apparently only buying himself time with that method because then he paused. It didn't take Jack long to decide on a course of action though and soon the Big Daddy was being flung through the air with Telekinesis and hanging dead halfway through a wall. When Jack got his Adam, Fontaine decided to offer some praise for the dark deed.

"Good work, lad." He said, voice all paternal approval that made Jack smile more than someone who'd just murdered a child really ought to be able to.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack sighed, taking an Eve hypo from his belt and injecting himself with it. Fontaine then watched him blow through a total of three turrets and five Splicers before stopping at a Gather's Garden and injecting himself with whatever he'd bought. If it weren't for the occasional need to get his bullet wounds healed up, Jack would be accumulating quite the collection of track marks.

When Jack suddenly took a detour, Fontaine sat up a bit straighter, curious as to what he was up to. The kid found another god-forsaken audio diary and hit play while he picked up the Eve hypo that had apparently caught his attention. Fontaine tensed up but when the tape started, he knew it wouldn't incriminate "Atlas" so he relaxed again.

Ah, he remembered Timmy. He was definitely a loyal thing. Granted, it was fear that had made him loyal, but that was just as good as any other reason to be loyal. He'd traded his life in order to keep Fontaine’s secrets, after all. Jack's voice pulled Fontaine from his musings.

"Wow. Must've been real scared of "Fontaine" to let himself get fried." He muttered, getting back on track even as he had to carve through four more Splicers.

Grinning to himself, Fontaine tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible. "He was a very powerful man. Lotsa people were afraid of him but just as many followed him cuz he had the Adam." He explained, getting a hum from Jack. Ah, the power he'd wielded once upon a time. The power he'd wield again. His Ace would ensure Fontaine returned to his former glory and then surpassed it. With Jack by his side, he'd be able to take on anything.

Frowning a bit, Fontaine mentally ran over that again. With Jack by his side. Honestly, when he'd started this whole masquerade, he'd planned on disposing of Jack once he'd completed his task. The more time he spent with the kid, the more he saw that as a terrible waste though. Jack **had** been very expensive to make, after all. If he could, why shouldn't he try to keep him around for a bit longer than originally intended?

A shrill scream from his radio pulled Fontaine from his thoughts and he looked up at his monitors in time to see Jack fighting a Spider Splicer. Even though she was just another spliced-up freak, she seemed to be giving Jack a bit of trouble. Funnily enough, more trouble than any Big Daddy Jack had fought so far. Before Jack could finish the Splicer off, a turret came from somewhere off-camera and joined the fight, scaring her away and making her retreat into a vent.

Fontaine heard Peach's voice but couldn't quite make out what he was saying until Jack came closer. "Now go get that camera and then snapshots of those that crawls on the ceiling. Then I'll let you into the fisheries." Fontaine heard Jack sigh in what was no doubt annoyance and he couldn't help but agree. "Just remember, sonny friend: I smell an ounce of Fontaine on you, and I'll have you in a b-b-box! Atlas gives you the vouch, but I ain't turning my eye just on his say so!"

Paranoid old fucker. Granted, he was right, but still. "Grown man, jumpin' at ghosts." Fontaine grumbled, easily able to pull off an appropriately annoyed tone since Jack was having to detour for a camera of all things. "Fontaine's dead and everybody knows it. In the ground for months, and half the place still jumpin' at his shadow. Christ, even Ryan." Letting out a dramatically annoyed sigh, Fontaine let his voice become gentler. "You nevermind all that. We got work t'do."

"Yes, Papa." Jack said, making quick work of a few Splicers he came across and having fun doing it if his small smile was any indication.

"Ol' Peach seems a decent enough sort, I suppose. No doubt he'll wait until _after_ you've done his errands to stick a shiv in your belly." Fontaine mentioned, maybe still a bit bitter about how Peach had betrayed him so long ago but grinning despite himself when his words of warning made Jack fumble in his caving in of a skull.

"Well, that's pleasant, thank you." Jack said sarcastically, making Fontaine laugh. He kept smiling as Jack carved through Splicers but it faltered when he came across a fucking diary. Well, they really hadn't been bad since the first one, so maybe he could relax. Fontaine found himself reflexively rolling his eyes when it turned out to be one of Ryan's fucking diaries. People thought **he** liked to listen to himself talk but it's like they'd never listened to Ryan before. No one was in love with the sound of their own voice like that fucker.

"Something must be done about Fontaine. While I was buying buildings and fish futures, he was cornering the market on genotypes and nucleotide sequences. Rapture is transforming before my eyes. The Great Chain is pulling away from me. Perhaps it's time to give it a tug." If nothing else, the tape made Fontaine smile to himself, his smile growing when Jack let out an impressed little "wow".

"This Fontaine guy seems like he was a real badass." He muttered after setting the tape aside, making Fontaine preen a bit. _A bit_ , like he was capable of only preening _a bit_.

"A badass, huh?" Fontaine asked, grinning to himself and letting some of how pleased he was bleed into his voice in the form of amusement. "Into that sorta mob boss type, are ya?" He goaded, knowing that if he was going to end up keeping Jack, he'd need to reveal the truth to him eventually.

"Maybe a little." Jack admitted, making it to the Upper Wharf. "Not as much as I'm into that sort of civilly disobedient Irishman type, though." He said softly, making Fontaine choke as he kept himself from laughing at that. At this point Fontaine wasn't sure if the transition from "Atlas" to himself would break the kid’s heart or go seamlessly, but the honest-to-god **devotion** Jack had for him was almost too much.

Realizing Jack had heard him almost choke, Fontaine thought quick. "You're makin' me blush, boyo." He muttered, trying to sound sheepish and knowing he'd done it justice when Jack looked quite pleased with himself. God, the kid was easy to please. He supposed he was too, though, sitting in his office making plans to keep the kid just cuz he was an exceptional ego-stroker.

The stomping footsteps of a Big Daddy brought Fontaine from his thoughts and he witnessed Jack looking uncertain. It seemed he was coming to the conclusion that he was going to have to actually fight this one, Fontaine's suspicion was confirmed when Jack drew his new grenade launcher. This would be interesting. Jack might even get seriously injured for once. Stuck between slightly nervous and mostly excited, Fontaine watched his screens eagerly.

It took two shots from his grenade launcher and four shots from his shotgun for Jack to take down the Big Daddy. There were a couple close calls with the monster's huge drill, but, for a man of his size, Jack was an agile thing and narrowly avoided getting hit every time. By the time the fight was over, Jack was panting, but he hadn't even gotten scratched and Fontaine leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing his face. A one-man army who took out hordes of Splicers and fought one-on-one with Big Daddies like it was nothing; worth every fuckin' penny.

After retrieving and reloading his weapons, Jack harvested the wailing Little Sister, barely grimacing this time when he ate the Adam slug. Sticking his tongue out, Fontaine shuddered and took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "First time I seen you fight one of those without completely wipin' the floor with it." He said, deciding to focus on the fight instead of the thought of eating slugs. "Good to know you can handle yourself even when they get a chance to fight back."

"I think you just like watching me fight." Jack said, making Fontaine laugh at his boldness. The kid was definitely getting more comfortable with him. Well, with "Atlas", anyway. Still, that was good. The more comfortable Jack was, the more trusting he'd be, and the more trusting he was, the easier he'd be to manipulate. Not that he wasn't already ridiculously easy to manipulate, but still.

"Can you blame me, boyo?" Fontaine asked, grunting appreciatively at the way Jack's arm muscles flexed when he knocked a lock off a gate. "Ya should see your muscles goin' when you're movin'." He paused and shook his head as Jack caved in a Splicer's skull. "S'like watchin' art." Fontaine finished huskily, catching how Jack's cheeks got darker.

"Now you're making me blush, Papa." Jack mumbled, Fontaine unable to help himself from thinking "cute" even as Jack destroyed a couple of security cameras like they were cheap toys and not highly specialized pieces of technology.

"I can see that." Fontaine said, amused at how easy it was to fluster Jack. Eventually he was really going to have to see how flustered he could make the kid before he had to stop and rub one out. Ah, but for now, there was work to be done. A sign informing Jack that he was getting close to the wharf master's office ensured Fontaine remembered that. "The research camera looks just like one you'd see topside. Accordin' to this magazine article I scrounged up, it can also "analyze genetic information, parse biological structures," and lots of other five-dollar words." He informed, pretending to have a somewhat hard time with the scientific words. "Atlas" was a common working man, after all, there wasn't any reason for **him** to be familiar with this sort of tech.

"Alright. Thanks, Papa." Jack said, doing a bit more breaking and entering before finally finding the camera.

"Good, you got the camera. Now get me some snap snaps of those Spider Splicers! And don't come back down here 'til you got my research!" Peach shouted almost as soon as Jack had the camera, Fontaine hearing the kid sigh deeply and snickering quietly to himself. Peach'd better make himself scarce once he finally let Jack through his hideout; at the rate the kid was going now, Fontaine wasn't sure he'd live through the encounter if he didn't.

There was a Spider Splicer trapped in the room beside the one Jack was in, and as Jack took aim with the camera, Fontaine looked back down to the article he'd fished from the depths of one of his filing cabinets. Jack had this handled, he could spare a few minutes to peruse this properly. It was an interesting read, after all, the camera operating alot like the wall-mounted ones that liked to try and rat Jack out to Ryan before getting obliterated. The thought made Fontaine smile but it slipped a bit as there was the sound of an explosion wherever Jack was.

Glancing up, Fontaine saw that Jack was fine and poured himself some gin, leaning back to nurse the drink and keep reading. He'd focus as soon as he finished this article. There was some noises from the radio that didn't sound dire and so were ignored, then there were the sounds of Splicers dying, some more ignorable sounds. It wasn't until Jack spoke that Fontaine tuned in.

"Atlas?"

"Yeah, boyo?" Fontaine asked distractedly, _just_ about finished with the article and taking another sip of his gin. He could see how the camera could be useful, but why the fuck did Peach want one? It wasn't like he ever left that fucking freezer he called a hideout. What would he even do with the research from the camera? What would he photograph?

"Can med-kits heal broken bones?" Choking on his gin, Fontaine's head snapped up and he quickly located Jack. Had he fucking broken a bone while Fontaine was distracted? Surely not, he hadn't screamed. Surely even someone like Jack would scream if he broke a bone. No, he looked fine.

Furrowing his brow, Fontaine smoothed a hand over his hair to try and calm himself. "Well, sure, but--" It was then that he realized what Jack was going to do, but it was too late to stop him. The moment "sure" left his mouth, Jack had jumped from a bit of metal roofing probably twenty feet from the hard ground below. Fontaine's heart hit his balls and he waited for the crunch, but nothing came. The kid looked fine. He'd barely even flinched.

"Huh. Thanks, Papa, but I guess I didn't need to worry. That fall must not have been that high after all."

Flopping back in his chair, Fontaine laughed quietly. Good lord. Was it **his** fault that Jack seemed to have lost all sense of self-preservation or was that Rapture's influence? Sitting back up, Fontaine snatched the radio from the desk and tried to cut the annoyance in voice so it wasn't as potent. "Well, since you're done givin' me a heart attack, let's keep movin'." He huffed, managing to get himself down from annoyed to frazzled.

"Sorry, Papa, I didn't mean to scare you." Jack mumbled, sounding guilty enough that coupled with his use of "Papa", Fontaine was sorely tempted to forgive him. "I'm fine, though." He kept walking and Fontaine examined him from his end. No limp, no blood, he certainly **looked** fine. "It didn't even hurt." Jack continued to assure, shifting Fontaine over from annoyed to curious.

How? How had he jumped from twenty feet and not so much as sprained an ankle? A normal person would have broken so many bones. While Fontaine was well aware that Jack wasn't normal, he was starting to think he wasn't fully aware of how inhuman he really was. "It's alright, lad." He sighed, setting the radio back down. "Just focus on gettin' them pictures for ol' Peachy so we can get the hell out of this place."

It'd been a hectic time when he'd commissioned Jack and if he was honest with himself, he'd never read Suchong's notes as closely as he probably should've. He knew Jack was supposed to be strong and fast and shit, all that he'd ordered, but reinforced bones? That seemed excessive. Fontaine wasn't complaining, but it was a little concerning. What else had Suchong slipped into the recipe for his Ace that he'd missed in his haste to get him approved and ready to be sent off? Luckily Fontaine saved **everything** and he knew exactly where to find the papers. Next time he had a quiet moment, he'd really read them like he should've done in the first place.

"The fucking nerve of Peach, anyway, honestly." Jack suddenly grumbled, startling Fontaine out of his thoughts. Well, that tone was new. He'd never heard the kid sound so annoyed. "I mean, if you told **me** to receive a guest, I'd roll out the red carpet for them, not send them on a hunt for **photographs**." He spat spitefully, taking a picture of a Spider and beating a couple other Splicers to death when it ran off and the others got too close.

"Would ya now, boyo?" Fontaine asked, smiling in amusement and forgetting about his concerns for the moment. He was pretty sure he could've been the one to ask Jack for those pictures and he'd've gotten five-star quality snapshots without a single fuss, but Jack didn't say all that. It wasn't the taking of the pictures that was bothering Jack, it was having to do it for someone who wasn't "Atlas".

"I would!" Jack replied, stopping in a room with a Big Daddy in it. Just as Fontaine started to wonder why Jack wasn't getting into battle mode, he realized the monster didn't have a Little Sister. "I mean, it's one thing not to trust me, but not trusting **you**? If you told me to jump off a cliff, I'd trust that there was a damn good reason and a perfectly survivable fall in store for me." Jack continued, Fontaine half choking on a groan as Jack pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and started to chew on it.

Frank Fontaine had never considered himself a weak man. Maybe that was because his ego was half the size of Rapture, maybe not, but he'd always thought of himself as fairly strong. He was a strong man, but this curvy, pouty, ego-stroking little genetic freak of nature was fucking killing him. He'd known loyalty through fear and through addiction and even through respect on the rare occasion, but never, **never** had Fontaine been faced with such blind fucking devotion. Good lord, it was enough on its own to damn near have him seeing stars.

"Papa? Are you okay?" _Fuck_. And that was another fucking thing! Fontaine had always had a thing for power-play but he'd always been more of a "sir" kind of guy. The occasional "daddy" was a nice change of pace with the right piece of ass, but "papa"? What kind of man could make such an unsexy word so fucking appealing? The point was, Fontaine wasn't sure if he was weak or if Jack was too powerful for him to handle. It sure seemed like it was one or the other.

"Yeah, boyo, I'm alright. Just stubbed m'toe is all." Fontaine finally bit out, his actual voice straining against "Atlas'" as he got himself under control.

Jack, bless his fucking heart, looked so very concerned, but he nodded slowly. "Alright." He muttered, pulling his focus from the radio at his hip as the Big Daddy finally managed to summon a Little Sister to itself through one of those gilded oversized glory holes. Fontaine heard the kid take a breath and he mimicked the action, lighting up a cigarette and taking a deep drag to calm his nerves. _Ah_ , that was the good shit. Letting the smoke out slow, Fontaine realized he was fucking exhausted.

Glancing up to make sure Jack was doing alright, Fontaine started rummaging around in his desk drawers and eventually found a bottle of pills. Taking one out, he knocked it back with his last swallow of gin, not particularly caring that the label specifically said not to do that. He'd been practically living off those little blue-green pills, hard liquor, and cigarettes for the last few years. They were called Pep-Pills and were basically a sleep replacer. They were also sort of getting hard to come by what with Rapture being a hellscape now, but Fontaine had enough that he'd be able to keep up with Jack's endless energy until he had time to actually sleep.

The pill kicked in slowly, making Fontaine feel good. Not wired like other drugs that kept him from feeling tired, just rested, like he'd gotten the good-night's sleep he'd been denying himself since the war with Ryan had really started. Letting out a light sigh, Fontaine looked up and saw the tail-end of Jack's fight with the Big Daddy, raising an eyebrow as he witnessed the kid use Telekinesis to cripple the brute. Well, that was exceptionally cruel, making the beast watch while he harvested the Little Sister.

Jack was even smiling a bit as he dragged the little brat off to get her slug out. He didn't even glance at the Big Daddy as it wailed at him, apparently unmoved by the pathetic noises. Fuck. Fontaine might've been in love. Deciding for the sake of his sanity that that was a joke, a bad joke, Fontaine cringed, looking away from the screen as Jack practically dropped the slug down his throat. Gross. He barely even blinked. A familiar voice made Fontaine look up again, finding Jack on the move and listening to yet another diary.

"I'm closing in on the whole ring. I'd pat myself on the back, but let's face it, these aren't exactly bloodthirsty desperadoes we're talking about. Rapture's full of poets, artists, tennis players, not hired guerrillas. But this leader of theirs, this Fontaine-- he seems to know his way around a grift. He keeps his nose clean, but not so clean that the right people don't know he's not to be trifled with." Fontaine watched Jack's reaction to the diary and smirked when Jack smiled before setting it aside.

"I'm surprised Fontaine didn't manage to off Ryan. Seems like he had the connections for it." Jack said idly, capturing his third Spider on camera.

"Guess he just didn't manage to get an ace in the hole before he got offed." Fontaine replied, keeping his tone as neutral as possible and watching Jack's reaction again. The phrase definitely triggered something inside the kid but it wasn't so extreme that he didn't manage to pull himself out of it in time to kill some Splicers that came at him. Maybe Fontaine was taking a risk using a phrase that Jack would've heard often before his mind-wipe, but it was interesting to test the kid's limits and study him. Fontaine had never quite had the aptitude for science, too many failures to get to a success for his short temper, but he'd always found it fascinating. Maybe in another life, with a little more patience, he could've been one of the eggheads on the first bathyspheres down here.

 _One of the eggheads that ended up a spliced-up freak fighting for their fix in a crumbling city._ Yeah, good point. "Future King" suited him more than "ex-scientist" as a title. "Anyway, I think that should about do it." Fontaine said, cutting off his own thoughts and apparently shaking Jack out of his own head as well. "Head on back to Fontaine Fisheries now."

"Yes, Papa." Jack said, his tone oddly content for the face he'd made when Fontaine had used the term "ace in the hole". Maybe that was "loosen up" at work. What a fucking stroke of genius **that** had been.

Finishing up his, _Christ_ , **twentieth** cigarette of the day, or since Jack had arrived, he actually wasn't sure how long it'd been since then, Fontaine watched his Ace use Telekinesis to catch and toss bombs from a Splicer up on a platform to other Splicers in the room he was in. He was getting real good at using that Plasmid in particular. Fontaine hadn't realized it was powerful enough to damage a Big Daddy like Jack had done earlier and it made him wonder idly if that was because Jack was a powerhouse or if everyone else had just been using them wrong.

Having made it back to the docks, Jack was just finishing up a purchase from the Gatherer's Garden machine there when he seemed to get distracted by something. Fontaine couldn't see what but he caught some faint humming crackling over his radio right before the first Spider Jack had tried to kill dropped down from the ceiling in front of him. It didn't seem like Jack really thought about what he was doing before doing it and Fontaine's eyes widened as Jack wielded two different Plasmids simultaneously against the Spider.

Well, that was something else he hadn't known was possible. Fontaine had been the single biggest driving force behind Plasmids becoming the booming business they'd been back when Rapture was as close to a real city as it could've ever been. As such, he liked to think of himself as being fairly knowledgeable about the damn things. It wouldn't do to shill a product he couldn't talk up with at least some accuracy and furthermore, Plasmids were fascinating, but here this fucking kid was coming in and warping how he understood Plasmids to work.

Apparently, warping Fontaine's understanding of things was something Jack was good at. He'd warped his appreciation of the word "papa", warped his original plans for taking the city from Ryan, and now he was warping his understanding of something he'd basically invented. Fontaine was stuck between a few conflicting emotions, mostly annoyed and intrigued, when Peach's voice caught his attention.

"They sure go down easy once you research them up right. Come on in and show us those snappy snappies." Fontaine almost scoffed but caught himself and just rolled his eyes instead. Sure, it was the pictures and data that Jack hadn't even glanced at that helped him kill that Spider and not the fact that he was a fucking beast. Whatever you say, _Peach_. Fucking mook. When he heard Jack huff in a decidedly annoyed way, Fontaine got the feeling he'd been thinking roughly the same thing.

When Jack dented the door by knocking on it, Fontaine considered offering a courtesy prayer for Peach. Then the old cunt took the time to taunt Jack and Fontaine decided against it. Let him get what was coming to him. "Before you head into the fisheries, a word to the wise: ol' Peachy seems about as straight as a dog's hind leg. You keep your eyes open." Fontaine offered, figuring at this point Jack didn't really need the advice but also figuring that the very act of giving advice, needed or not, was very in character for "Atlas". The occasional lapse in judgment aside, Fontaine **was** committed to his role.

"I will, Papa." Jack said softly, walking into the fisheries once the door finally opened. Peach, wisely, had made himself scarce. Then, unwisely, he spoke up from Jack's radio. Fontaine wasn't any kind of detective or anything like that, but you don't spend the majority of your life conning people and not learn how to read a person. If Fontaine had been reading Jack right, and he was decently sure he had been, he **hated** when that radio crackled to life and it wasn't "Atlas" on the other end.

"Nobody walks into my swampy carrying the heat. Put your weapons in the pneumo, and then I'll let you in." Peach said, making Fontaine snicker quietly. The only weapon the kid ever used was that fucking wrench, otherwise he used his Plasmids, with impressive, almost frightening, efficiency, so it wasn't like that was gonna stop him from doing whatever Peach was trying to prevent.

"If that's his price, you're gonna have to pay it. But he can't very well take your Plasmids away, now can he?" Fontaine piped up, smirking to himself when Jack smiled and gave up his weapons. The kid was really mastering that creepy smile of his. Even through the grainy, black and white camera feed, Fontaine could see it. He couldn't imagine how intimidating it must be up close. Like looking the Reaper in the face and finding they really like their job.

As soon as Jack entered the room, it started to fill with steam or smoke or something and Fontaine's view was cut off. Well, if that didn't reek of an ambush, he wasn't sure what did. "Now, I bet when your boss waggled out of Hell, he done told the Devil he'd be right back, and the Devil says "Sure thing, Mr. Fontaine. I'll hold you a spot.". Ryan promised Fontaine was dust, and now here you are, doing his dirty. I guess that makes Ryan a bum and you a--" Peach rambled from Jack's hip, making Fontaine smile. It was sort of flattering knowing someone out there thought he was intimidating, or maybe evil, enough to have the Devil himself calling him "Mr. Fontaine", even if that someone was about to be so very dead.

Unfortunately, Fontaine didn't get to see what happened next, but he did hear it. He heard the Splicers making their assorted unhinged noises and heard faint snaps. He heard whooshing like something flying through the air and then the squelch of skin and flesh being stabbed. There were dying gurgles and cries of pain and then the steam or whatever it was started to clear. Fontaine straightened up eagerly and the steam was just cleared up enough by the time Jack made his way to Peach that he could see the showdown.

Icicles. Letting out a breath, Fontaine looked at the other monitors and saw all the carnage in the room. He turned his eyes back to Jack and Peach and a grin that probably hinted to how unhinged he himself was split his face as he witnessed Jack toying with Peach. Catching his molotovs and tossing them back at him like he couldn't just impale him like he'd done all the other Splicers and be done with it. Covering his mouth to muffle it, Fontaine laughed softly, realizing in the back of his mind that his heart was beating awful fast considering he was just sitting at a desk.

As Peach fell lifeless to the frozen floor, Fontaine fell back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. There was definitely something loose upstairs for him to be so riled up after watching a slaughter, but he supposed he'd always known he wasn't quite right. Laughing quietly again, Fontaine watched Jack pick up his weapons, noticing how he left the camera behind.

"The submarine bay was only used by smugglers n' thieves. More 'an likely the entrance'll be hidden, better to keep the coppers off the scent." Fontaine informed, his voice coming out a bit more breathless than he'd meant for it to. Well, he **was** supposed to be on the move, after all, so he supposed it made sense that he'd be out of breath.

"Right." Jack acknowledged, melting the ice around what was apparently the wrong frozen door as all he found in the room was Splicers. After a brief break at a Power to the People station to upgrade the weapons he rarely used, Jack melted the ice around the other door and quickly found the "hidden" entrance. Some ice and crates weren't the best camouflage in the world, but they had been enough to keep the men that were too dumb to be worth bribing from finding the entrance and giving the ones worth bribing plausible deniability in the worst case scenario.

"Ya found it!" Fontaine said, mustering some appropriate excitement as he stood and stretched out his slightly achy muscles. Doing some walking would be good for him, he'd been sitting for too long. "Should be smooth sailin' from here. I'll meet you up ahead." He assured, getting the mobile equipment he'd need and his pistol. Slipping everything into the appropriate nooks and crannies, Fontaine boarded his bathysphere and rode it to where he needed to be. The one he was in now was one of about a dozen or so that he'd managed to get working for anyone who wasn't Ryan's blood.

The ride wasn't long and the bathysphere opened up a short walk from the dock Fontaine needed. "I'm right outside the submarine bay, but I can't get in. I'll need you for that. My family can't be more than a hundred yards away." He breathed into the radio in his hand, his other hand in his pocket as he made his leisurely way to the locked door, playing up a desperate sort of tone for Jack. Those mooks trapped in that sub were his "family", after all, a man like "Atlas" would be desperate to get to his family.

"I'm on it, Papa." Jack breathed, letting Fontaine know exactly where he was when he heard the trill of a turret. He had a handheld device that was set up to follow Jack from camera-to-camera but the quality on the damn thing was even worse than the shitty monitors in his office, so he didn't bother using it. It was really just a prop to help sell that he'd been on the move the whole time, a reason for him to have been able to see what Jack was doing. Fontaine didn't expect Jack to question him, he wasn't that bright, but Fontaine wasn't a man to overlook little, important, details like that. He'd always been a very detail oriented man when he could afford the time.

"There should be a switch up there in the control booth that'll let me in." Fontaine said, keeping up the general anxiety in his voice. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he added a little something extra in a slightly more saucy tone to really put some fire under Jack. "I think it's high-time we shake hands and get acquainted."

Fontaine's smug smile vanished the moment he heard Ryan's voice come from Jack's radio. No man knew how to kill a mood like Ryan. The man was practically a professional, shoulda put it on his resume. It was a little late for that now, he'd be dead soon, but it would've been a skill worth noting once upon a time. "You've had your fun, but enough is enough. If you press that button, you'll learn what it means to truly be my enemy." Fontaine covered his mouth to muffle it, but Jack had the exact same reaction, Fontaine hearing his rough bark of laughter after Ryan's pointless threat.

 _Yeah, fuck you, Ryan. Thatta boy._ Smiling proudly, Fontaine waited patiently for the door to open, wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with appropriate desperate concern when it did and resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he heard the alarm sound in the room Jack was in. Of course the kid had tripped an alarm. That was another one of his specialties.

Running into the room, Fontaine looked up at the window overlooking the dock and frowned a bit at how dark it was in the booth. "You blow a fuse up there? Can't see a damned thing in that booth." He called over the radio, glancing over to the bathysphere and seeing his men were very much alive inside.

"I think it was Ryan. I'm alright, Papa." Jack assured, Fontaine managing just barely to keep from smiling.

"Just give me a tick and I'll get you outta there." Fontaine said, going for assuring even as he moved over to the control panel on the submarine port. He pressed the buttons he needed and frowned when they didn't work. _Great_ , he was gonna have to hack it.

"Take yo--" Jack started, getting cut off suddenly.

Glancing down at his hip, Fontaine shook his head and focused on getting the bathysphere door to open. It was probably just some interference or Ryan being a petty little bitch. Right now Fontaine needed to worry about getting his people out of that sub before something went wrong, not about his radio. After hacking the control panel, Fontaine pressed the buttons and flipped the switches and felt his blood-pressure rising when nothing happened. The lights were on! The panel was connected! Why wasn't the blasted thing working?

An explosion made Fontaine jump and he looked around wildly in time to see a few pillars and large rocks come down around the room followed by-- "Goddamn Splicers!" He swore loudly, taking his gun out and backing up against the submarine. There weren't very many right now, if he could just-- a loud crash from up above made Fontaine and even the Spiders descending on him look up.

They all got to witness Jack jumping from the pillar that had landed in front of the window of the booth, just a casual fifty-fucking-foot drop, but Fontaine was the only one mentally present enough to think anything of it. He wasn't exactly sure which combination of his extensive vocabulary of expletives he used to express his surprise, and maybe _slight_ concern, at Jack's entrance but it didn't really matter as Jack placed himself between the approaching horde of Splicers and the bathysphere.

"Get your family, Atlas." Jack said calmly, shooting up with an Eve hypo. "I got the Splicers."

Deciding it best not to question the clearly determined man, Fontaine simply gave Jack a hearty pat on the shoulder and holstered his gun. He could hear the sounds behind him, flesh tearing, bones snapping, screams of agony, but he didn't have time to look back as he yanked uselessly on the emergency release handle on the bathysphere door. These stupid handles had never been good for anything let alone emergencies. It'd always taken a team of at least two of his biggest goons to get the stupid thing to turn whenever he'd needed to use them in the past.

"Goddamn door is jammed!" Fontaine swore after a bit of tugging, looking up quickly when he heard Jack shout "here". The kid tossed him his machine gun and Fontaine caught it easily.

"Hold them off, I'll get the door. It won't take long." Jack assured, trading places with Fontaine. Looking out at the battlefield, Fontaine's eyes widened. Most of the Spiders littering the floor had been ripped in half, their organs spilling out of their still carcasses and onto the floor. As much as he wanted to burn the imagine into his brain, Fontaine had a job to do and took over killing the Spiders that just kept fucking coming as Jack worked. After hearing the kid snarl behind him and then hearing several bangs, Fontaine looked back briefly to witness Jack denting in the area around the bathysphere door.

Oh, the absolute injustice of it all! What he wouldn't give to watch that show, to see Jack's muscles working and to see the looks on his people's faces as Jack wailed on the metal and actually made it cave. Unfortunately, one of those things was his life, so Fontaine had to face forward again and keep shooting.

There was a loud pop and then a bang and then Jack was at his side again. "Go ahead." He said, smiling at Fontaine and taking his gun back when Fontaine offered him a grateful smile and hurried back to the bathysphere.

Flashing his crew a wolfish grin, Fontaine kept his voice low. "I don't think I need to remind any of you that it's "Atlas" while Jack's around. Any of you slip on that, you die in the most painful way I can imagine." He threatened, keeping up the "Atlas" voice even as he didn't bother speaking like "Atlas" would and getting several understanding comments and gestures from the crew. "Good. Now get the fuck out and head down the hall behind the dock, the sphere'll be waitin'. Don't you fuckin' **dare** close that door before I'm boarded." There was more understanding words and Fontaine moved out of the way, letting his people scramble from the submersible and watching them hurry from the room.

After watching Jack work for a bit, Fontaine tapped his shoulder twice and pointed behind himself when Jack looked. "C'mon, boyo, it's time to get out of here." He said, heading for the exit himself when Jack nodded once in acknowledgment. Fontaine waited for Jack and didn't even have to tell him to block off the exit, the kid was already using the big pieces of rubble and rocks that had landed around the room to do so. Smiling to himself, Fontaine led Jack to the bathysphere and boarded it, pausing once he was out of the way to pawn his crap off on the nearest person.

The bathysphere started moving shortly after and Fontaine quickly found a seat beside Jack, smiling at him and getting a tired smile back. The kid opened his mouth to say something, but then the radio still on his hip came to life and they both sneered at it, Jack instantly going to shut it off before Ryan could get out much of what he was sure would've been a fabulously haughty speech. Nothing that started with "you ooze in like an assassin" could be anything less than fabulously haughty.

Chuckling at Jack's expression, which wasn't quite a sneer so much as he was just intensely scrunching his nose, like someone had let one rip in the bathysphere, Fontaine cupped Jack's cheek, taking his attention from the radio. "It's real good to finally meet ya, Jack." He said softly, giving Jack his most charming smile and practically being able to see the hearts forming in the kid's eyes.

"I was just thinking the same thing." Jack said softly, surprising Fontaine with his ability to speak, though he didn't show it. Fontaine had thought for sure he'd turn into a babbling mess once they were actually face-to-face. Despite the odd pride he felt for Jack's ability to keep it together, Fontaine frowned as he leaned in closer, noticing all the cuts Jack had accumulated when he'd jumped out of that window like a damn lunatic.

"You're all cut up, boyo." Fontaine muttered, reaching into his pocket and taking out a handkerchief. He dabbed at the cuts all over Jack's pretty face and smiled a little as his eyelids fluttered. Damn. Maybe he hadn't been joking earlier. _No! Bad! Bad, Frank! Stop that!_ Frowning again, Fontaine ceased his dabbing, going to remove his hand but pausing when Jack caught it and held it.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack whispered, looking quite alot like he was going to lean in for a kiss before one of the other men in the sub coughed and the moment passed instantly.

Smiling in a way that he hoped looked embarrassed in order to keep from showing on his face how much he wanted to stab whoever coughed, Fontaine cleared his throat and pulled away from Jack, taking his hand back as well. "This is my family, boyo." He said, motioning around the sub and looking around for whoever looked the guiltiest. "They're more found family than biological, but they're family nonetheless and I really can't thank you enough for helpin' me save them."

"Family is family, Atlas." Jack said, smiling so genuinely it made Fontaine's cheeks hurt to look at it. It also maybe made his heart hurt a little, but those were still bad thoughts that Fontaine was avoiding. "It's nice to meet all of you." Jack offered awkwardly, seeming to notice how none of the crew could meet his eye.

After glaring around at his crew warningly, Fontaine turned his attention back to Jack. He clicked his tongue and huffed softly as he picked pieces of glass out of Jack's arms and chest and dabbed his handkerchief at the bloody cuts he could reach without getting Jack's shirt off. "You're so reckless, lad." Fontaine muttered, going for slightly scolding. "Jumpin' outta windows and fightin' hoards o' Splicers like it's nothin'." He reached into Jack's pack and shot him in the arm with a Quik-Heal. "You're lucky you're so tough."

When Jack was quiet for too long, Fontaine looked up and frowned. The little shit was smiling! "Sorry, Papa." Jack breathed, having the nerve to laugh when Fontaine huffed and punched him lightly on the arm.

"No you're not, ya cheeky thing." Fontaine muttered back, a smile playing his own lips as he got an idea. He leaned closer to Jack's ear and his voice dropped, becoming husky and deep. "But ya will be when I put you over my knee and tan that lovely round ass o' yours." Fontaine growled, leaning back again like nothing had happened and noticing in satisfaction how Jack covered his crotch with his backpack. Serves him right to have to be hard for the whole ride.

Feeling quite satisfied, Fontaine casually draped his arm around Jack's shoulders and gave the one his hand rested on a light squeeze. Jack leaned into the faux-casual touch and Fontaine closed his eyes. At the risk of sounding absolutely cliche, the tides were changing down in Rapture and it felt damn good to be the one controlling the force that was changing them.


	5. Rescue Mission Jack PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Atlas finally meet and then set out on a rescue mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Atlas, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Relationships: Atlas/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Size Difference, Praise Kink, Spanking, Degradation, Daddy Kink, Masochism, Oral Sex, Voice Kink, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Cumming Untouched, Titty-Fuck, Facial, Punishment, Thigh-Fuck, Spit as Lube, Blood as Lube, Unsafe Sex, Burnplay, Marking, Mild Feminization, Biting, Multiple Orgasms, Obsessive Behaviour, Smoking, Idolatry, Possessive Behaviour, Murder, Sadism, Claustrophobia Mention, Blood and Gore, Drug Use, Non-Explicit Child Murder

Eventually the bathysphere started to surface and the number of turrets on the way up made Jack frown. It made sense though. Atlas opposed Ryan and Ryan obviously wasn't shy about using all the Splicers at his disposal to try and take him out. It made Jack's heart ache to imagine Atlas fighting Ryan by himself for however long this had been going on for. The bathysphere slowed and surfaced into a fairly large sitting room and someone opened it up. They began to file out and quickly spread out while Jack and Atlas exited, the two men lingering near the bathysphere.

"Must be dangerous being the only person in Rapture who opposes Ryan." Jack said, resting his eyes on Atlas after looking around the room briefly. He was so damn handsome. Perfect. He was just so perfect. Everything about him. His voice, his hair, his eyes, his body, his--

"It is." Atlas responded, pulling Jack out of his admiration. "But I ain't the only one. Not anymore." He said, giving Jack a grateful look. "Not since I got you on my side." While Jack was busy melting internally, Atlas glanced over at his family as they mulled about the safehouse. "I imagine they'll be needin' a minute to get settled in." He said casually, placing his hand on Jack's lower back and offering him a charming smile. "So why don't me and you go discuss our next move in my room?"

Smiling shyly, Jack simply nodded, not quite trusting his voice with Atlas touching him. His face must've given away his excitement, because Atlas smiled even wider and led him away with the hand still firmly in place. Jack didn't mind, of course, in fact, he really liked that Atlas was touching him. He couldn't wait to get him alone.

As soon as the door to Atlas' room was closed and locked, Atlas was pressing Jack against it and kissing him deeply. Jack immediately melted into the kiss and gripped Atlas' suspenders eagerly as the slightly shorter man pressed against him. Even though Jack was taller and wider and stronger than Atlas, he let the older man lead, let him have all the control he wanted. When Atlas demanded entry to his mouth with his tongue, Jack gave it happily, their tongues dancing together for a bit before Atlas pulled away.

"Bed." He huffed, moving away from Jack so he could eagerly move to the bed, discarding his shirt along the way. He turned just in time to see Atlas do the same, lowering his suspenders and removing his shirt. His pants came off next along with his shoes and socks and he caught Jack watching him hungrily as he slowly pulled his underwear off. Jack swallowed visibly as he got his first look at Atlas' half-hard cock and Atlas chuckled softly. "Everythin' you were hopin' for, _boyo_?" He asked huskily, putting a seductive emphasis on the nickname.

Shuddering, Jack nodded eagerly. "Oh yeah." He breathed, realizing he still had most of his clothes on as Atlas sauntered over. He stripped down the rest of the way quickly, not bothering with trying to be seductive like Atlas had. If the appreciative grunt he got when he finally freed his own rock hard dick was any indication, Atlas enjoyed the view regardless. Suddenly Atlas' fist was wrapped around his dick and Jack gasped, looking up at the older man's smirking face.

"It's even prettier in person." He murmured, smirk turning to a grin when Jack's dick pulsed in his hand. "Ya like that, Jack?" Atlas asked, catching Jack's eyes and holding them as he stroked him slowly. "Ya like it when I compliment your pretty little prick?" Jack's dick twitched even harder and he let out a shuddering moan as he nodded quickly. "Oh, I felt that, boyo." Atlas purred, giving Jack's dick a teasing squeeze. "Ya like it when I call it little, don'tcha?"

Shivering, Jack nodded eagerly. "Y-yes, Papa." He breathed, bucking up into Atlas' hand and biting his lip to keep from whining when Atlas removed his hand.

"Good. I think you're gonna like it when I tan your hide too." Atlas growled, sitting down on the bed and raising his eyebrow expectantly at Jack when he looked uncertainly at his lap.

"Look, Atlas, I-I don't really know my own strength." Jack started, looking at Atlas in concern. "What if you hurt your hand? I-I mean, I didn't even feel it when I jumped out of that window, what if--" He was cut off by Atlas cupping his cheek and smiling warmly at him.

"Don't worry about me, boyo." He assured, his smile shifting a bit from one second to the next. "I'll be fine."

Frowning a bit at the shift, Jack nodded slowly. "Okay." He said softly, unable to shake the feeling that something was off. It was like time had jumped or skipped or like Atlas had-- glitched. That sounded ridiculous, but Jack didn't know how else to describe it. Deciding that it must just be nerves, Jack took a deep breath and laid himself across Atlas' lap, mindful of his weight as he situated himself.

"Good boy." Atlas purred, stroking down Jack's back to his ass and giving his cheeks a squeeze. Jack moaned lowly in his throat and Atlas paused for a second before bringing his hand down hard on Jack's left ass cheek.

Gasping, Jack's hips jerked hard. That had hurt. He had fully expected it not to. He barely felt it when he got shot, after all, and the most pain that he'd been in so far in Rapture had been from his throbbing fist after punching the bathysphere. Yet that spank was such a clear, sharp pain. Atlas smacked the right cheek just as hard and Jack choked on a moan, his hips jerking again. It hurt, but it felt amazing. How long had it been since he'd felt pain? Real, sharp pain like that? He couldn't remember and he quickly decided it didn't matter as Atlas' hand came down again.

It occurred to Jack on the fourth smack that maybe he could feel the pain so acutely because his guard was lowered. He trusted Atlas, after all, and his body hadn't been so relaxed since this whole ordeal had started. That made sense to Jack and he whined high and needy when the next smack came.

"Just one more, boyo." Atlas assured, giving Jack's abused cheeks a light squeeze. "You're bein' so good for your Papa." It took all of Jack's willpower not to cum then and there and then a few ounces more not to when the final smack landed. Atlas helped him up and pulled him into another hot kiss, this one being considerably shorter as Atlas pulled away to cup Jack's cheek. "Told ya I'd be fine." He breathed, making Jack smile softly.

"You were also right about me liking it." Jack admitted shyly, his straining erection proof enough of his statement.

"That I was." Atlas said in amusement, flicking the tip of Jack's dick and grinning when he gasped. "Now, which part of you should I fuck first?" He hummed, rubbing his stubbled chin a bit in thought as he looked over Jack's body hungrily.

Biting his lip as he was eyed like a piece of meat, Jack took some initiative and slid off the bed, kneeling between Atlas' thighs. "I've been dying to know what you taste like, Papa." He said softly, rubbing Atlas' thighs softly as he looked up at the man pleadingly.

"How could I resist such a cute look?" Atlas asked, grinning crookedly at Jack and spreading his legs more. "Go on then, boyo, show me what that dirty fuckin' mouth can do."

Shivering in arousal, Jack leaned forward eagerly, taking Atlas' cock in one hand and bringing his mouth to the tip immediately. In exactly one taste Jack knew for certain he'd never tasted anything as good and that he never would. It was salty and slightly bitter and the most amazing thing Jack had ever had in his mouth in his life. Moaning around the head trapped firmly in his mouth, Jack showered the tip in attention from his tongue. After a bit, Atlas grunted loudly and tangled a hand in his hair, starting to push him down.

"C'mon, boyo, don't tease your Papa." Atlas grunted, voice thick with arousal and even more sexy in person without any of the static or other interferences from the radio.

Jack moved as far down as he could before gagging and then back up, trying to suck and use his tongue at the same time. While he was certainly eager, he was inexperienced. He hadn't ever done this before, after all, and wasn't really sure what to do. Jack had a general idea, of course, he wasn't oblivious, but even he felt his skills currently left much to be desired.

After letting Jack struggle on his own for a bit, Atlas pulled his head back slowly with the grip in his hair, smiling affectionately down at the him. "Let me." He purred, releasing Jack's hair and tapping his chin lightly. "Open your mouth, relax your jaw." Jack obeyed and Atlas stroked a thumb over his bottom lip before sliding the tip of his cock into his eager mouth. "Keep your teeth in check." He tangled his fingers back in Jack's hair and started to guide him gently up and down. "Figure out the rhythm and breathe outta your nose. Suck when you can, use your tongue." Atlas sighed as Jack obeyed, the older man starting to move Jack faster and thrust deeper. "That's a good boy. Now, tap m'thigh twice if I get too rough for ya."

Nodding as best he could, Jack ran through Atlas' instructions in his head a few times as Atlas slowly but surely got rougher and faster. Soon the older man was bottoming out into Jack's mouth with every thrust and Jack was gagging almost every time but he was more turned on than he'd ever been in his life. It felt incredible to be used like this, to essentially be Atlas' personal sex toy. When Atlas pushed his head down as far as it would go and kept it there, Jack choked and moaned loudly, his hips jerking hard as he came.

Then he was on his back on the floor and Atlas was straddling his chest, both of the older man's knees pinning down Jack's arms. "What a naughty boy, cummin' before ya were told ya could." He breathed, jerking himself leisurely in front of Jack's face.

"I'm sorry, Papa." Jack breathed, dick still hard even after his orgasm. "I didn't mean to."

"Still, I can't very well let ya go unpunished for that, now can I?" Atlas asked, tone that of a disappointed but loving father. "Spare the rod, spoil the child, after all." He grinned and moved forward, bracing his free hand on the floor beside Jack's head so his cock was _right_ in Jack's red face. "And you want this rod, don'tcha, boyo?" Atlas purred, chuckling when Jack moaned lowly and nodded eagerly.

"Yes, Papa. Please." Jack breathed, intoxicated by the heady scent of Atlas' arousal and the way his voice wrapped like silk around his mind, making everything except Atlas himself blurry and unimportant.

"That's my good boy." Atlas murmured, tapping the head of his cock against Jack's swollen bottom lip but keeping it just out of reach of his eager mouth. "You're gonna make good on lettin' me fuck them perky tits now." Jack nodded eagerly and Atlas shifted so his arms were free and he was sitting up on Jack's chest. As soon as his hands were free, Jack pressed his pecs together as close as they would go and held them there. He looked up at Atlas and was elated to see how dark his eyes were with raw arousal. "Head up, now, mouth open." Atlas commanded, lowering himself and placing his cock between Jack's pecs. It was a shallow channel, but it was a channel nonetheless. "Stay just like that, don't move until I tell you, boyo."

"Yes, Papa." Jack breathed, shivering in pleasure as the first thrust sent Atlas' cock into his mouth only briefly. It took Jack a few thrusts to work out the timing, but soon he was able to swipe his tongue eagerly over Atlas' cock every time it poked into his mouth briefly after sliding between his pecs. Jack was dimly aware that his neck should be killing him from the awkward position, and maybe it would be once it was over, but right now all he could feel was the pleasure of knowing that every strained grunt and groan coming from Atlas was because of him. He was addicted, it was official; Adam had nothing on Atlas.

After a bit, Atlas' thrusts became more hurried and uneven and soon he was blasting his load all over Jack's face and in his open mouth. Jack moaned at the taste and feeling but clenched up everything he could to keep himself from cumming again. Once the last spurt left Atlas, he leaned back on Jack's chest.

"Ya can relax now, boyo." He breathed, laughing a bit as Jack's head hit the floor with a _thunk_. "Took your punishment like a good boy. Papa's proud of you."

Shuddering, Jack looked at Atlas hungrily. "Will you fuck me now, Papa?" He asked, his own voice thick with arousal. "I wanna feel your thick, perfect cock inside me so badly."

Gritting his teeth, Atlas groaned and quickly got off of Jack, pointing at the bed. "Head down, ass up, **now**." He ordered, Jack scrambling onto the bed and into position. "Callin' me perfect all the damn time, got no idea what you fuckin' do t'me." Atlas grumbled, surprising Jack when he forced his legs together and slipped his hard cock between his thighs. "Or maybe you do know." He said, thrusting slowly between Jack's muscular, trembling thighs. "Ya know what ya do t'me when ya go callin' me perfect, ya little whore?" Atlas asked, tangling his fingers in Jack's hair and forcing him up against his chest as he kept leisurely fucking his thighs.

Moaning loudly, Jack nodded, not caring in the slightest that it pulled his hair still trapped in Atlas' fist. "I-I know, Papa." He admitted, hips stuttering back to meet Atlas' thrusts. "But I can't help it. You're like a god." Atlas groaned loudly and suddenly Jack's face was shoved into the bed. He moaned again as two of Atlas' spit-slicked fingers roughly pushed into his eager ass, stretching him far too roughly and barely lubing him up.

"I'm gonna fuckin' destroy you." Atlas promised, his voice not quite sounding right but Jack not caring as he nodded eagerly under Atlas' hand, clenching tightly around his fingers in anticipation.

"Take me, Papa." Jack breathed, his voice muffled by the mattress he was being smushed against. It was a wonder he could still breath. "Fuck every part of me, make me yours, only yours."

"Fuck." Atlas breathed, removing his fingers and roughly replacing them with his cock. Neither man seemed to care that it wasn't exactly comfortable with barely any spit for lube and not nearly enough stretching to accommodate Atlas' girth. They both moaned like it was the most amazing feeling they'd ever felt and before Jack could adjust, or more likely get impatient, Atlas was fucking him with reckless abandon.

There might've been a bit of tearing on Jack's part, but that only provided more lube and a sick, sharp burn to accompany the blinding pleasure he was in. He was chanting "Papa" and "Atlas" like they were the only two words he knew while Atlas snarled out a strangled "fuck" with every other labored grunt. The bed was squeaking loudly under them and even banged the wall a couple times when Atlas snapped his hips forward particularly roughly.

At the rate they were going, it didn't take long for both men to cum, Jack being set off by Atlas biting into his shoulder so hard he was certain it broke the skin and cumming deep inside him. After a bit of ragged breathing, Atlas pulled out of Jack and flopped down beside him on the bed, still breathing hard and looking utterly satisfied. Jack for his part stretched out now that Atlas wasn't on top of him and groaned lowly at all the little pains that were now catching up to him.

The sound of a match being struck beside him made Jack roll his head to look at Atlas and Atlas grinned crookedly at him, exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke above them before offering Jack one. Smiling back, Jack took it and carefully lit a single finger on fire so he could light up. He exhaled his own plume of smoke in a sigh and rolled over on his back. "I think this has been the best day of my life." He muttered, looking over with a smile as Atlas laughed.

"Think I might have to agree with you, boyo." Atlas said, sounding just like himself again.

Taking another pull from his cigarette, Jack looked at the cancer stick and let the smoke out slow. "Is it just me, or are these really good?" He asked, voice a little scratchy from how much he'd been straining it.

"That'd be the Eve." Atlas said, tapping his ashes off the side of the bed as he spoke. "Once you've had a taste of it, you start to notice it in things."

"I thought the rush felt familiar." Jack hummed, having felt the usual bittersweet sting of nicotine in his lungs when he inhaled the smoke but also feeling something else, something even better than the nicotine.

"Makes Rapture smokes twice as addictive as surface smokes, but damn if it don't make 'em taste better." Atlas said, glancing over at Jack and frowning a bit at his concerned expression. "Somethin' wrong, boyo?"

"I know you said I won't end up all messed up from using Adam, but what about Eve?" Jack asked, looking at Atlas' handsome face and feeling instantly relieved when Atlas smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, Eve ain't nothin' like Adam. It's addictive, alright, but it's harmless." Atlas assured, seeming to pause when Jack came closer and snuggled up against him, putting the arm holding his cigarette over his chest so he wouldn't burn him. After laughing a bit, Atlas wrapped an arm around Jack.

The following silence was comfortable with Jack taking the occasional pull from his cigarette while Atlas traced patterns into his back. Eventually he finished his smoke and sat up reluctantly to put it out in the ashtray beside the bed. Atlas had nearly finished his own cigarette and he also sat up. When Jack looked over to offer him the ashtray, he noticed a curious expression on Atlas' face, uncertain and dark.

Frowning a bit, Jack lightly touched Atlas' arm. "You okay, Papa?" He asked softly, smiling gently when Atlas seemed to snap out of it and smiled crookedly at him.

"Yeah, just thinkin' is all." Atlas replied, rolling his stub of a cigarette between his fingers a bit as he eyed Jack's chest for a moment before meeting his eyes. "Wanna try somethin' ya might not like, boyo." He said softly, coming closer to Jack and bringing the red-hot cherry of his cigarette inches from Jack's chest.

Gasping softly, Jack met Atlas' eyes and after holding them for a moment, gave a slight nod. Atlas didn't hesitate or give Jack a chance to change his mind, pressing forward instantly and grinding his cigarette out against the top of Jack’s breast. Jack hissed softly in pain even as his tired dick twitched valiantly. Atlas seemed to notice because he laughed softly, a low, throaty laugh that Jack hadn't heard yet.

"Lucked out gettin' you before Rapture could, boyo." Atlas breathed, tossing his stubbed out cigarette aside and leaning in to lightly kiss the burn he'd made on Jack's chest. "Not gonna letcha get back to the surface. Gonna keep you here with me." He mumbled, kissing up to Jack's neck and giving him a few hickies while Jack breathed heavily.

"I'd like that." Jack breathed back, heart pounding hard from Atlas' words. "I wanna stay with you, Papa."

"You're not goin' anywhere." Atlas promised, cupping Jack's cheek and kissing him possessively for a few seconds before pulling back. "You're mine now." Another kiss that stole Jack's breath. "Mine forever." Another kiss, this one including tongue as Jack breathed out a quiet "Papa" against Atlas' lips. They kissed like that for a bit before Atlas pulled away, sighing softly. "Let's get cleaned up and then I'll let you in on what exactly I'm tryin' to accomplish down here."

Smiling, Jack nodded happily and let Atlas lead him to the restroom. They showered together and then Atlas managed to scrounge up some clothes that would actually fit Jack's much larger frame while their clothes got washed. Once that was done, they left Atlas' room and moved into the living room, Atlas' family gathering when Atlas moved to stand in front of a small group of couches.

"I know I already introduced you lot to Jack and I'm sure you heard more than your fair share of how close we are, but this is Jack, he's the one who's gonna help us take Rapture back from Ryan." Atlas introduced, wrapping his arm around Jack's shoulders and smiling at him when his family gave him a few hesitant greetings.

The next few hours consisted of Atlas telling Jack about the revolution that they'd lost and about their new plan which had been quickly modified to center on him instead of the entire crew Atlas had originally believed they'd need. Jack was over the moon, of course, and more than willing to help in any way he could. When that way was revealed to be killing Andrew Ryan, Jack simply gave a confident nod, not about to shrink away from the challenge even when Atlas told him how difficult and dangerous it would be.

"Well, I guess that settles it, then." Atlas said, smiling proudly and clapping Jack's shoulder. "We just got a few more areas of Rapture to march through and then we can get to Ryan and you'll get him outta the way."

"And then you'll get Rapture back on her feet." Jack replied, smiling at Atlas like they were the only two people in the room. As far as he was concerned, they might as well be. It wasn't like Atlas' family wasn't still trying desperately to avoid him, after all. That was fine, the only person Jack needed was Atlas, no one else mattered.

Nodding firmly, Atlas released Jack's shoulder and stretched. "Suppose you need to get some rest before we get movin'."

Shaking his head, Jack looked eager. "No, I'm ready to go as soon as you are." He frowned a bit then, looking slightly concerned. "I actually haven't felt tired since I got here."

After making a quick shooing motion at his family, Atlas pulled Jack aside, a calm, reassuring smile on his face. "Ever wonder why ya never come across a sleepin' Splicer, boyo?"

After a pause to consider the question, Jack's face lit up. "It's the Adam, isn't it?"

Grinning, Atlas clapped Jack's shoulder again, looking proud. "Quick as whip, lad." He complimented, shaking his head a bit in a fond way as that moved Jack right on up to beaming. "Ya sure you're ready to get movin' so soon?" Atlas asked, looking concerned now, his tone making Jack's heart ache a bit.

Giving a firm nod, Jack smiled lovingly at Atlas. "I'm sure." He confirmed, getting another dashing smile from Atlas and knowing for certain that he'd forgo sleep and rest in general for the rest of his life if it meant getting one of those every now and again.

"Alright, boyo. The ‘sphere'll take you as far as I can get you safely and then the rest'll be up to you." Atlas said, helping Jack get his gear back into place on his body.

"Don't worry, Papa, I can--" Jack's hand had reached down to flick his radio back on in preparation for communicating with Atlas via it, but almost as soon as it was on, a voice leagues less pleasant than Atlas' crackled over the air.

"I suppose you think yourself rather clever, hiding away with Atlas where I can't see you." Ryan said calmly, Jack's hand going for the dial once again before Atlas' hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Hold on, lad, let 'im vent. Ryan ain't good for much, but sometimes his temper tantrums are the closest you get to comedy down here." Atlas said, sounding almost excited.

"Ah, you're still with your _Papa Atlas_ I see." Ryan spat, practically gagging out "Papa Atlas" and unknowingly switching the hammer he was putting nails into his coffin with to a nailgun as Jack's temper flared. "Grand. Here's a message for both of you, then." Atlas looked at Jack in amusement, both eyebrows raised and Jack couldn't help but smile, the pounding in his temples lessening when he looked at Atlas. "Though you may have managed to reach part of your--" A click of his tongue and a scoff. "-- _family_ with your toy's help, I can guarantee you'll never reach the others before the good people of Rapture do."

Then the line went silent and Jack met Atlas' wide eyes with a shocked expression of his own. "More of your family is trapped down here?"

"I-- well, there were more bathyspheres, but I-I hadn't heard from 'em since-- I-I didn't think any of the others made it." Atlas stammered, looking rather shaken.

"We have to save them!" Jack said eagerly, eagerness just as quickly turning to a frown. " **I** have to save them." He corrected, taking Atlas' hand gently. "You have to let me save them for you. You stay here and be my guide, I'll do all the leg-work." When it looked like Atlas might argue, Jack squeezed his hand gently. "Please. I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt. Stay here, stay safe. I can handle it on my own."

Sighing, Atlas nodded softly, still looking slightly concerned. "Alright, boyo. I'll hang back, be your guide." He conceded, giving Jack's hand a squeeze.

Smiling softly, Jack pecked Atlas' lips. "Thanks, Papa." He breathed, quickly finishing up putting his gear on and boarding the bathysphere. Before he could close the door, Atlas leaned in, pulled his face close, and kissed him breathless

"Thank you so much, Jack. I don't know how I'll ever repay you for all this." He said once he pulled away, gently brushing his hand against Jack's cheek.

Jack was surprised he hadn't dented the bathysphere from how hard he was holding onto it in an effort to stay upright against the wave of dizzying euphoria Atlas sent over him, but he supposed he should just be grateful. "Tell me you meant it when you said I was yours." He whispered once his brain cleared up enough, hoping that he didn't look as desperately in love as he felt, or at least that it was an appealing sight if he did.

"I meant it, boyo, every word." Atlas said, kissing Jack again though much more briefly. "Once this is all over, I'll prove it to you, you'll see." He promised, smiling that heart-meltingly charming smile which effortlessly cut the edge from that vaguely ominous promise.

Nodding once, Jack moved fully into the bathysphere and sealed the door once Atlas moved back. He looked at Atlas' gorgeous face smiling, and perhaps this was wishful thinking on Jack's part, lovingly at him and pulled the lever, keeping Atlas in his sight for as long as he could and then sighing and sinking into a seat when he couldn't. Was there something wrong with him for being so hopelessly in love with a man he'd just met or was it just that love at first sight really existed after all?

After pondering it airily for a bit, Jack decided it didn't matter and went about double-checking that all of his guns were fully loaded. It seemed like Atlas, at the very least, didn't find his infatuation disturbing and, at the most, maybe even liked him too, so that was enough for Jack. Finding now that he wasn't painfully hard for the ride that the bathysphere moved through the ocean rather quickly, Jack exited the submersible after it had docked and got Electro Bolt ready in one hand and his wrench ready in the other.

"I'm ready, Papa, tell me where to go." Jack said, twirling his wrench idly in his hand.

"There should be a door on your left that you may have to persuade to open." Atlas instructed, Jack finding the door and trying a zap of lightning to the control panel first. When that didn't do anything, Jack holstered his wrench, fit his fingers in between the slightly parted two halves of door and shoved, parting the metal with a bit of effort. "Atta boy." Atlas said happily, making Jack smile as he started walking briskly, his pace just shy of jogging. "Hang a right up ahead now."

As Jack took the turn Atlas had indicated, he came face-to-face with a Splicer. Aside from getting slightly startled, the interaction ended in Jack's favor and with the Splicer's brain stepping out of their head for some air. Jack dimly realized that was a horribly morbid thing to think and he was probably just terrible for finding it funny, but didn't have time to dwell on it as Atlas instructed him over the radio on his hip.

When Jack finally arrived at the first bathysphere, he found the people inside alive if somewhat crestfallen. They definitely became more lively as Jack started breaking into the bathysphere, not bothering with the panel he'd seen Atlas struggling with and putting a concentrated effort into turning the emergency handle without breaking it. Once Jack succeeded in his mission of getting the door open without irreparably damaging either the sub or the mental well-being of Atlas' family, he moved aside so the trapped people within could stretch their legs and get some-- well, **fresh** wasn't really the word for the air in Rapture, but surely it was fresher than the air in a bathysphere.

"Alright, you lot, you know where the safehouse is." Atlas said from Jack's hip, bringing his family to attention. "Jack'll escort you as long as he can and then you're on your own."

Offering the collection of people a smile, Jack noticed that some of them looked dubious about him. It occurred to him as he kept moving, the group following behind, that Atlas couldn't turn the emergency door handle on the last bathysphere and he'd broken it trying to do so, so that probably meant the wheels were meant to be turned by a machine or a team, not one man. Well, he couldn't very well hide his strength since he wasn't about to try and figure out how to hack one of those panels, so he supposed he was just going to have to live with Atlas' family giving him the cold shoulder.

"Keep followin' the signs for Selkie Street." Atlas instructed, Jack able to hear some papers shuffling from where he was at. "My family'll be breakin' off from ya just before you get there."

"Got it." Jack confirmed, trying to keep a sharper eye than usual out for danger now that it wasn't only his body he was guarding. There was the expected occasional Splicer as the group moved through the pipes and plazas of Rapture and Jack even found himself having to take care of a few security cameras, but they made it to Selkie Street without anyone but Jack getting injured. He might've gotten shot once or twice, but it didn't hurt much and he didn't feel dizzy from blood loss, so he'd opted to ignore the injuries until they became more plentiful.

"Alright. Now, in a place called The Cove, there--" Atlas started, getting cut off by a burst of static.

"This is a fool's errand, don't you see?" Ryan said from Jack's hip, making Jack pull his usual scrunched nose face. "Your precious _Papa_ is only using you to help him amass his army of parasites so they can further taint my city." He growled, putting his usual disgusted emphasis on "Papa" and making Jack accidentally rip the front door off The Cove.

"You know, _Andrew_ ," Jack started, putting a spiteful emphasis on the man's name. "I'm pretty sure one of the _other_ channels has a better signal. You should really consider switching over." When Ryan had the nerve to snigger at Jack, it made him really wish there were some Splicers in the area.

"Ah, you've got fire in you." Ryan said, almost sounding pleased. "I will take immense pleasure in snuffing it out."

Scoffing, Jack was on the very threshold of a biting retort when the line blurred with static again. "The nerve o' tha-- boyo?" Atlas asked, seeming to realize he had the line again.

"Hey, Papa." Jack greeted, Atlas' voice chasing away the anger from Ryan's interruption. "I'm in The Cove."

"I see you, lad. Head to the basement. There's a door disguised as a shelf that'll take ya to the next 'sphere." Atlas instructed, Jack hearing some more shuffling of paper.

"Okay." Jack said, following Atlas' instructions and finding the shelf easily enough. The hidden button didn't do anything when Jack pressed it, so he resorted to the tried and true method of just ripping the door off the wall. That worked, of course, and Jack found the bathysphere, getting it open much like the last one. All but one of the people in the submersible exited and Jack realized quickly that the one wasn't moving. "What-what happened?" Jack asked softly, looking at the others in concern.

"He, uh, he wasn't real big on tight spaces." A woman replied, her New York, -ish Jack wasn't really sure, accent striking him as familiar for some reason. "When the bathy wouldn't open, he started to panic and we-we couldn't calm him down. Then he just-- stopped."

"Damn it." Atlas muttered from Jack's hip, sounding equal parts sad and angry. "I'd hoped we'd get to Jessie before--" He sighed deeply and Jack frowned sympathetically. "We gotta keep movin' though, the longer ya stand around, the more Splicers Ryan can get movin' on your location." Atlas said, sounding resigned and somber.

"Right." Jack said, motioning with his head for the group to follow him up. Sure enough, there were a few Splicers meandering around the upper floor of The Cove that Jack dealt with easily enough.

"You start goin' the way you were when you got here, my family'll be headin' in a different direction." Atlas informed, either seeing Jack hesitate or hearing that he wasn't moving and figuring he was hesitating. "Don't worry, boyo, they're a tough lot and the safehouse ain't far."

"Alright." Jack said uncertainly, shooting one more look to the group before jogging onwards.

"Look, about what Ryan said t'you--" Atlas started, a snort that Jack hadn't meant to let out interrupting him.

"Sorry." Jack muttered, huffing angrily. "He's so full of shit, though. I can't believe he really thinks I would take his word over yours."

Laughing softly, Atlas sounded relieved. "Good, good. I seen too many good people get won over by that man. I'm glad you're stronger than all that."

Practically beaming, Jack fought a large grin into a less-embarrassing smile. "Don't worry, Papa, I trust you completely. Nothing _Ryan_ could say will change that." Atlas let out a short, almost-groan at that and it made Jack raise an eyebrow.

"That's good to know, boyo." Atlas said quietly, happily, Jack realizing the sound wasn't anything to worry about.

Smiling again, Jack came to a diverging path and went left when Atlas indicated him to do so. A straight shot with some Splicers, an open area that was eerily quiet, a right down a passage, and--

"Too slow." Ryan said smugly, his taking of the air being announced by the usual burst of static.

Before Jack could respond, the door he was about to pass through was blown out towards him, a thunderous explosion coming from the room within. Jack was hit by the door and the force knocked him off his feet, making him grunt in pain. Getting shot didn't hurt too bad and jumping from almost-certainly-lethal heights was child's play, but getting hit at no-telling-how-fast by a solid metal door hurt quite alot actually. Shoving the door off of himself while his radio blared some static, Jack sat up and immediately checked the small device. It was fine, the line was just switching over.

"Jack!? Lad, are you alright?" Atlas asked, sounding more worried than Jack had heard him so far. "I heard the blast, but I can't see anythin', are--"

"I'm fine, Papa." Jack said quickly, touching his forehead, which hurt the worst, and realizing he was bleeding quite a bit from a gash on his head. When he looked at the door, he saw a bit at the top was warped and jagged and bloody and he knew immediately that was the part that did it. "I'm okay." He repeated, taking his pack off and injecting himself with a Quik-Heal.

"Thank god." Atlas breathed, Jack having to try hard not to smile at how much Atlas cared about him. "Is-- the 'sphere is gone, isn't it?" He asked softly, sounding resigned to what he assumed was the answer.

Getting up slowly, Jack found the Quik-Heal was already working and slowly made his way to the doorway. He looked into the room and saw nothing but charred bodies and bits of metal that had almost certainly once been a bathysphere. "Yeah. I-I'm so sorry, Papa." Jack whispered, backing away from the door and leaning against the glass of the walkway.

"It's not your fault, boyo." Atlas said, his voice soft and reassuring before hardening into cold anger. "It's Ryan's."

After a moment of silence, Jack took a deep breath and straightened up. "There's more subs, right? We won't reach them by dwelling."

"Aren't you hurt?" Atlas asked, a frown evident in his beautiful voice.

"I'm fine." Jack assured, leaving the tunnel and shooting a smile at the first camera he saw, hoping that Atlas could see it. "I used a Quik-Heal and I already feel much better. I can keep going."

"Alright." Atlas said uncertainly, letting out a sigh when Jack simply kept moving determinedly. "Alright, head back towards Selkie Street and this time go right."

"Got it." Jack said, following Atlas' instructions and rescuing two more bathyspheres with minimal trouble before something else went wrong. The next room with a bathysphere in it was **full** of Splicers. Jack used his Plasmids mostly to do his thing and he cleared the room gradually, but once he did, he and Atlas both got a look at the bathysphere. The Splicers had broken into it and apparently torn apart everyone inside. The glass on the door was broken and bloody and there were only pieces of people inside the submersible. The rest of them could be found around the room mixed in with the torn-up, charred Splicers.

"Jesus Christ." Atlas swore, giving voice to what Jack had been thinking.

Swallowing thickly, Jack shook his head a bit. "How could Ryan do this? Why does he hate you so much that he'd do something so--" He didn't have a word for this. "Monstrous" didn't seem strong enough, nor did "evil".

"Somethin' you learn real quick about Andrew Ryan when you get down here is that he doesn't like it when people disagree with him." Atlas replied soberly, his tone surprising Jack a bit. "That was the point of Rapture, after all, a place where there's no gods or kings except the beloved Andrew Ryan whose word was the only law."

"I can't wait to kill him." Jack whispered, surprising himself with how much he hated Ryan but finding he stood by it when he thought about it.

"That makes two of us." Atlas replied, sighing and rustling some papers around on his end. "There should be a back exit from the dock. Take it and follow the signs to Athena Square." Jack nodded and took one last look at the carnage in the room before leaving and doing as Atlas said. "Three buildings here have secret docks. Perkin's Paperbacks, Ebb and Flow, and The Bitter Clam."

"Got it." Jack confirmed, looking around but getting distracted in his searching by the sounds of an approaching Big Daddy. At first Jack was just going to ignore the beast and its Little Sister, but he could see a Gatherer's Garden machine not too far away and he **was** in the middle of something of a war now, so in the end he decided he couldn't miss the chance to get more Adam. Looking around, Jack spotted several potential weapons in the forms of the many statues dotting the square.

Grabbing one of the giant marble men, pedestal and all, with his Telekinesis, Jack located the Big Daddy and used the statue like a club to beat it to death. It was messy, and lifting the heavy statue put quite a bit of strain on his still-healing body, but it got the job done and once the monster moved no more, Jack did what he had to and was soon swallowing down a rather large Adam slug. The texture was almost pleasant at this point, like slightly overcooked gelatin, and the taste made him hum softly in pleasure. What once had just been diluted sweetness now had a distinct flavor of its own and Jack found himself unconsciously licking his lips clean as he looked around for one of the buildings Atlas had mentioned.

Locating Ebb and Flow first, Jack entered the shop and began to search for the secret port. Just a bit further to go and Jack could stop dreading eating the Adam slugs. He just needed to get past the fact that they didn't stop moving from the moment he extracted them until, he assumed, his stomach acid had eaten away at them enough that they couldn't move anymore. Finding a suspicious button as he thought, Jack pressed it and a shelf came away from the wall with a hiss.

Smiling to himself, Jack hurried through the door and found the port quickly, freeing Atlas' family and waiting patiently while Atlas informed them that they should get to the nearest safehouse. The next establishment Jack located was The Bitter Clam. He entered and found a posh smoking lounge littered with the usual corpses one could find everywhere in Rapture. As he looked for the secret port, Jack's radio gave a burst of static and he groaned.

"Two bathyspheres full of your _Papa's_ "family" destroyed and still you both persist?" Ryan asked, his voice dripping all the contempt that Jack had come to expect from the man. "Are you really so desperate for the approval of a man you don't even know that you're willing to help him destroy what's left of my beautiful city?"

"As opposed to being so stupid as to listen to the man who kills people for _smuggling_ of all things, yeah. Yeah, I am." Jack replied, earning a condescending scoff from Ryan.

"Surely you don't think I'm naive enough to believe you're doing this for any other reason than that you're sickeningly infatuated with that most bothersome parasite Atlas?"

Cracking the edge of the desk he was holding onto as he squatted down to check underneath it for hidden buttons, Jack straightened up, having no one to aim his venomous glare at. "You know, I'm starting to think you're jealous of me and Atlas." He hissed, glancing down at his hip. "Is that it, _Andrew_? Did you have a crush on Atlas or something and now you're upset that he has me?"

"What a petty, immature thing to assume." Ryan hummed, sounding so unbothered by Jack's accusation that Jack was sure he was going to pop a blood vessel. "Though I suppose that's to be expected from one of Atlas' bit--" A burst of static cut Ryan off and Jack sighed in relief when Atlas' voice replaced Ryan's.

"Finally!" Atlas groaned, sounding annoyed. "Ya've no idea how hard it is to hack a radio frequency." Smiling despite himself, Jack finally found a button and pressed it, smile only growing as a secret door was revealed to him. "You're in awful high spirits for someone who's just had to sit through a famous Ryan rant." Atlas said, sounding almost amused.

Giggling softly, Jack shook his head and started turning the handle on the bathysphere door. "It's like you said, Papa, he's almost funny. You just have to get past how sad and annoying he is." He added the last part with a grumble, getting the bathysphere door open and moving aside so the people within could escape.

"I saw what you did to that desk, boyo." Atlas responded, making Jack flush in embarrassment.

"He called you a parasite." Jack mumbled defensively, rubbing his arm a bit and realizing his shirt was ripped in several places, likely from the explosion earlier.

Atlas let out a warm chuckle that made Jack smile again and he began to give his family instructions as Jack took his shirt off, stripping down to his undershirt once again and stuffing the ripped one in his pack. Once Atlas was done, Jack and his family parted ways and Jack started looking for the final store he needed. Some Splicers coming up from the depths of no-telling-where distracted him from his search for a bit, but then he found Perkin's Paperbacks.

Finding the secret entrance the moment he walked into the shop since it was already opened, Jack felt his heart drop and he hurried down the path towards the port. There were Splicers swarming the room, trying to break into the bathysphere there, but Jack had gotten there in time. Using Incinerate in both hands, Jack cleared the Splicers in the room and then freed Atlas' family. These ones at least looked grateful when they began to exit the submersible before they realized Jack was alone and switched over to uncertain.

"Hi." Jack offered, giving a light wave before Atlas took over, saving Jack from his own awkwardness. He couldn't remember being socially inept on the surface, but no one had ever looked at him like he was a bomb they weren't sure wouldn't explode on the surface either, so he supposed it made sense that he was suddenly uncertain about how to behave. Jack wasn't sure how to appear non-threatening because he'd never considered himself threatening before despite his stature. He only knew how to be himself, which, when he thought about it, also didn't count for very much because he hadn't felt like himself since shortly after arriving in Rapture. Jack wasn't sure if the city was changing him or just bringing out his true self. Was that the same thing? Maybe--

"Just three more to go, boyo." Atlas said from his hip, interrupting Jack's thoughts. "Head to the back of the square and take the path that leads to Mariana Plaza."

"Right." Jack said, hoping he didn't sound as distracted as he had been. After a brief pit-stop at that Gatherer's Garden he'd spotted, Jack got a move on. Mariana Plaza turned out to be a huge two-story industrial area but with Atlas' guidance, Jack found one of the bathyspheres quickly after arriving. The people inside looked a bit worse for the wear and when the door opened with a hiss, Jack realized it was because they'd been running out of air.

Having not thought about the limited air supply within a bathysphere, Jack suddenly felt a new pressure to hurry and communicated as much through his movements as Atlas led him to another port within the plaza. Seeing as the plaza was an industrial space, there was alot of debris and large bits of steel and stone lying about that Jack simply didn't have the time to be gingerly scrambling over. Tapping into his panic, Jack found himself effortlessly vaulting over obstacles and even found at one point that he could jump quite a bit higher than he ever would've thought possible. It wasn't extreme, but it was more height than he could recall ever being able to reach with a casual jump on the surface.

After making his way through a particularly rubble-filled area, Jack found the next port and his stomach immediately dropped. There had clearly been an explosion here like with the first bathysphere they'd lost, the charred pieces of person and scraps of metal lying around proof enough. "Damn it." Jack muttered, backing away from the port and resisting the urge to punch a wall. The explosion had clearly happened awhile ago.

"What is it, lad?" Atlas asked, concern lacing his voice.

"We're too late for this one. It-it's blown up." Jack replied, turning away and making his way back through the rubble-filled area. Atlas let out a deep sigh and Jack frowned, feeling bad for him. Ryan had to be absolutely heartless to be so willing to hurt someone as amazing as Atlas.

"Alright. Just one more to go, then." Atlas sighed, somber and resigned as before. "Across the way there should be some stairs leadin' down. Beside that is a storage closet. That--" A burst of static and this time Jack had somewhere to aim his frustration, taking out his anger on a pack of Splicers who'd made their way to the plaza while Jack was occupied.

"I see you--" A loud crunch as Jack bashed a Splicer's head in. "still haven't--" A shrill scream as Jack electrocuted another Splicer before almost knocking her head off with an underhanded whack to the jaw. "Do you mind?" Ryan asked huffily, clearly annoyed by the sounds of death interrupting his monologuing.

"I do, actually." Jack replied, shooting a Splicer he'd just lit on fire and ceasing their screaming. "So if you could just fuck off and save the talking for a quarter past never, that'd be great."

"Charming." Ryan grumbled sarcastically, regaining his composure a moment later. "I see why Atlas enjoys your company so much. You certainly match him in class."

"Well considering Atlas is a god among men, I'm gonna take that as high praise even from you." Jack replied, finding the closet Atlas had managed to tell him about before being interrupted. It looked sparse but that just meant Jack wasn't looking closely enough. Ryan's rough bark of laughter didn't help him concentrate any.

"Oh, yes, _godly_ Atlas." Ryan said, a mocking laugh in his voice. "I suppose you tell him such drivel to his face. That would explain even more clearly why he seems so attached to you." He sighed mockingly and Jack nearly broke the panel he'd found in his anger, barely managing to flip the lever within gently enough to not break it. "I'll tell you what, once the good people of Rapture manage to pin you for me and I find and exterminate Atlas, I'll be sure to bury you together. How's that sound?"

Taking his radio from his belt, Jack held it close, speaking into it with more quiet hatred than he'd ever let loose on anyone in his life. "When I get around to you, Ryan, and I _will_ get around to you, I'm going to rip your tongue out of your head and stick it so far up your ass that you'll be able to taste what you had for dinner last week." Jack promised, clipping his radio back into place as he walked down the revealed corridor.

There was a burst of static after several long seconds of silence and then Jack was startled by the sound of Atlas laughing. "Jesus, I think you scared 'im off!" Atlas chortled, sounding short of breath. "I was in the middle of hackin' back in and he just gave me the wave back!"

Smiling a bit despite himself, Jack opened up the bathysphere and helped the people within get out, some of them too weak to do it on their own due to oxygen deprivation. "He started it." Jack grumbled, still annoyed despite Atlas' amusement making him feel a little better.

"Oh, aye, that he did." Atlas agreed, sighing happily. "And you finished it, boyo."

Huffing, Jack couldn't help but smile more, his anger quickly evaporating. "Well, I'm glad one of us enjoyed that little exchange."

After one last enchanting chuckle, Atlas sobered up and addressed his family, who had all pretty much recovered now that they could breathe freely. "Jack here'll escort you all to the safehouse. Someone's gonna need to take the lead though. He doesn't bite. Be nice."

Suddenly happy that he'd threatened Ryan **before** making his way to Atlas' family, Jack smiled in the most non-threatening way he could. "He's right, I don't bite." He offered, a younger dark-skinned man stepping forward and giving Jack a nod.

"This way." He said, motioning with his head the way Jack had come and taking the lead. Jack followed close behind and switched places with the man at the entrance to the tunnel to make sure there weren't any Splicers. The coast was clear so Jack fell back once again, keeping an eye out for danger and following the man. "I'm Tanner, by the way." The man offered, glancing back at Jack and giving him an uncertain smile.

Offering Tanner an uncertain smile of his own, Jack nodded. "It's a pleasure." Perhaps he was more charming than he realized because Tanner seemed to relax at that and Jack noticed eventually that the entire aura of the group was considerably more relaxed now as well.

"Suppose Atlas must trust you an awful lot to let you come get us like this." Tanner said after a bit more silent walking.

"He can hear us." Jack said quietly, smiling a bit as Tanner mouthed "oops" and looked slightly embarrassed.

"I do trust Jack." Atlas said from Jack's hip, sounding calmer than he had since the rescue mission had started. "Keep to it now."

"Right." Tanner said, flashing Jack another awkward smile and picking up the pace. They made it to the safehouse shortly after and everyone was safe inside before Atlas spoke up again.

"Thank you so much for doin' this for me, Jack." He said softly, his voice gentle.

"Of course, Papa." Jack breathed, smiling gently at the nearest camera. "I would do anything for you, you don't have to thank me."

"Still." Atlas murmured, sounding just a little choked up before he cleared his throat lightly. "D'you need to take a breather before we head on to Arcadia?"

"No, I'm ready to go." Jack assured, heading for the exit of Mariana Plaza and following Atlas' instructions from there to get to Arcadia. Jack had a long walk ahead of him, but once he got to Arcadia, he'd be one step closer to getting to Ryan and knowing that was enough motivation to get Jack moving with some pep in his step.


	6. Rescue Mission Fontaine PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 but from Fontaine's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Size Kink, Praise Kink, Spanking, Degradation, Daddy Kink, Masochism, Oral Sex, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Cumming Untouched, Titty-Fuck, Facial, Punishment, Thigh-Fuck, Spit as Lube, Blood as Lube, Unsafe Sex, Burnplay, Marking, Mild Feminization, Biting, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Blood Kink, Smoking, Idolatry, Possessive Behaviour, Drinking, Murder, Sadism, Claustrophobia Mention, Blood and Gore, God Complex, Non-Explicit Child Murder

The bathysphere slowed and surfaced after a fairly quick ride into the sitting room of Fontaine's current hide-out and one of his people opened it up. They began to file out and quickly spread out while Jack and Fontaine exited, the two men lingering near the bathysphere. "Must be dangerous being the only person in Rapture who opposes Ryan." Jack said, his eyes wandering the room briefly before resting on him. Fontaine could tell the kid was undressing him with his eyes and it was hard not to smirk.

"It is. But I ain't the only one. Not anymore." Fontaine responded, giving Jack a grateful look. "Not since I got you on my side." Jack looked like he might swoon but Fontaine turned his attention to his crew, seeing that they were going about what tasks they knew needed to get done without his direction. Good. That gave Jack and him some time. "I imagine they'll be needin' a minute to get settled in." Fontaine said casually, placing his hand on Jack's lower back and offering him a charming smile. "So why don't me and you go discuss our next move in my room?"

Smiling shyly, which was funny considering how he'd just been eyeing Fontaine, Jack simply nodded, his face giving away his excitement despite his shy smile. Smiling even wider, Fontaine led Jack to his room with the hand still firmly in place. He couldn't wait to get Jack alone. It was sincerely tempting to just press him up against the bathysphere and fuck him right there, but his bed was more comfortable so he controlled himself.

As soon as the door to his room was closed and locked, however, Fontaine threw his control out the window and pressed Jack against it, kissing him deeply. Jack immediately melted into the kiss and gripped Fontaine's suspenders eagerly as he pressed against him. Even though Jack was taller and wider and stronger than Fontaine, he seemed content to let him lead, letting him have all the control over the kiss. When he demanded entry to Jack's mouth with his tongue, Jack gave it happily, their tongues dancing together for a bit before Fontaine pulled away.

"Bed." He huffed, moving away from Jack and watching with a smirk as he eagerly went over to the bed, discarding his shirt along the way. Fontaine did the same, lowering his suspenders and removing his shirt. His pants came off next along with his shoes and socks and he caught Jack watching him hungrily as he slowly pulled his underwear off. Jack swallowed visibly as he got his first look at Fontaine's half-hard cock and Fontaine chuckled softly, maybe putting on a little bit of a show for Jack. "Everythin' you were hopin' for, _boyo_?" He asked huskily, adding a seductive emphasis to the nickname.

"Oh yeah." Jack breathed, nodding eagerly before he seemed to snap to the fact that he was still clothed and quickly started stripping down. He didn't bother trying to be sexy about it like Fontaine had, but that was fine with him, a grunt of appreciation leaving him when Jack's dick sprang free of his underwear. Fontaine reached over and gripped Jack, smirking as the younger man gasped.

"It's even prettier in person." Fontaine murmured, smirk turning to a grin when Jack's dick pulsed in his hand. "Ya like that, Jack?" He asked, catching Jack's eyes and holding them as he stroked him slowly. "Ya like it when I compliment your pretty little prick?" Jack's dick twitched even harder and he let out a shuddering moan as he nodded quickly. "Oh, I felt that, boyo." Fontaine purred, giving Jack's dick a teasing squeeze. "Ya like it when I call it little, don'tcha?"

In truth, Jack's dick wasn't small. By design, because Fontaine was a man with a massive ego, he was willing to admit that, and egos by their very nature were fragile, it was smaller than his own, but it was still a decent handful. Either way, Fontaine wanted Jack to feel inferior to him; regardless of if he liked it or not. The eager nod he got from Jack indicated that he very much liked it though.

"Y-yes, Papa." Jack breathed, bucking up into Fontaine's hand and biting his lip when he let him go.

"Good. I think you're gonna like it when I tan your hide too." Fontaine growled, sitting down on the bed and raising his eyebrow expectantly at Jack when he looked uncertainly at his lap. Oh no, a light spanking was _not_ going to be where the kid drew the line with him. If their relationship ever managed to get to the point where Fontaine was fucking him as himself, a light spanking was going to be the least of Jack's concerns.

"Look, Atlas, I-I don't really know my own strength." Jack started, looking so very concerned. "What if you hurt your hand? I-I mean, I didn't even feel it when I jumped out of that window, what if--"

 _Ah._ Reaching over, Fontaine interrupted Jack by cupping his cheek and offered the kid a smile, trying for warm to hide his amusement. Like he hadn't thought about Jack's inhuman strength. Please. What kind of amateur did the kid take him for? "Don't worry about me, boyo." He started, eyes narrowing a bit and a decidedly sinister edge slipping into his friendly "Atlas" voice.

"In fact, would you kindly lower your body's defenses just for me? And maybe tell yourself that the reason I can hurt you is because I make you feel so safe and vulnerable, would you kindly?" Fontaine added, smile turning into a grin as Jack looked confused at his "requests". "Oh, and while you're at it, would you kindly forget everything that just happened from after "boyo" until three seconds from right now?" Jack's eyes blanked out for three seconds and when he came back, Fontaine's face and voice were back to the gentle warmth of before. "I'll be fine."

When Jack frowned, Fontaine knew he hadn't gotten the expression exactly right. With a hunk missing from Jack's memory, the change in expression no matter how small would be noticeable but Jack seemed to brush it off quickly. "Okay." He said after a bit, still being careful about how he set his weight down on Fontaine when he draped himself over his lap.

"Good boy." Fontaine purred, stroking down Jack's back to his ass and giving his cheeks a squeeze. Jack moaned lowly in his throat and Fontaine paused for a second before bringing his hand down hard on Jack's left ass cheek. As expected, as commanded, Jack felt it and he gasped in what sounded like a right cocktail of pain, pleasure, and surprise.

After giving Jack a moment to realize he wasn't going to breeze through his spanking like he breezed through getting shot, Fontaine brought his hand down on the right cheek. The moan Jack choked on as his hips jerked was extremely gratifying. Waiting another moment, Fontaine smacked the left cheek again and then the right after another moment. By the fifth smack, Jack was already whining and Fontaine grinned. Six hits was nothing, Jack was lucky he was with "Atlas" and not him. Spanking Jack as Atlas was already a risk, he couldn't risk anything rougher even if it would be good for the kid to start getting used to his sadistic streak.

"Just one more, boyo." Fontaine assured, giving Jack's abused cheeks a light squeeze. "You're bein' so good for your Papa." Another brief pause later and Fontaine brought down the final smack, helping Jack up shortly after and pulling him into a brief but hot kiss. "Told ya I'd be fine." He breathed, making Jack smile softly.

"You were also right about me liking it." Jack admitted shyly, his twitching, leaking dick all the proof Fontaine needed of that statement.

"That I was." Fontaine said, not bothering to cut the amusement from his tone and reaching over to flick the tip of Jack's straining dick. He couldn't help but grin predatorily as Jack gasped. "Now, which part of you should I fuck first?" Fontaine hummed, rubbing his stubbled chin a bit in thought as he looked over Jack's body hungrily. Much to his surprise, Jack bit his lip and slid from the bed to kneel between his thighs.

"I've been dying to know what you taste like, Papa." He said softly, rubbing Fontaine's thighs and looking up at him pleadingly.

 _Holy fucking fuck_. "How could I resist such a cute look?" Fontaine asked, somehow managing to keep his cool even as he grinned down at Jack and spread his legs more. "Go on then, boyo, show me what that dirty fuckin' mouth can do." Jack shivered and leaned forward eagerly, taking Fontaine's cock in one hand and taking the tip into his mouth immediately. Fontaine watched as Jack's eyelids fluttered like his cock was the best thing he'd ever tasted in his life and then the kid moaned just from fucking tasting him and Fontaine had to fight back a laugh.

It became easier not to laugh when Jack started doing obscene things with his tongue and the last coherent thought Fontaine had for a bit was that this couldn't be Jack's first time. Then the kid took too long to get things moving and Fontaine grunted, moving a hand down and tangling it in Jack's brown hair. "C'mon, boyo, don't tease your Papa." Fontaine said, starting to push Jack's head further down his cock.

Jack let him, of course, but when the tip of his cock bumped the back of his throat, Jack gagged and moved back up a bit. Watching Jack, Fontaine could tell this was definitely his first time. It was charming, in a way, how eager the kid was to please him even though he had no idea what he was doing. After letting Jack struggle on his own for a bit, Fontaine pulled his head back slowly with the grip in his hair, smiling in something dangerously bordering affection down at the inexperienced, eager man before him.

"Let me." Fontaine purred, releasing Jack's hair and tapping his chin lightly. "Open your mouth, relax your jaw." Jack obeyed and Fontaine stroked a thumb over his bottom lip before sliding the tip of his cock into his mouth. "Keep your teeth in check." He tangled his fingers back in Jack's hair again and started to guide him slowly up and down. "Figure out the rhythm and breathe outta your nose. Suck when you can, use your tongue." Fontaine sighed as Jack obeyed, starting to move him faster and thrust deeper. "That's a good boy. Now, tap m'thigh twice if I get too rough for ya."

Even though his mouth was full, Jack tried to nod and Fontaine slowly started to let himself loose on the kid's poor virgin throat. Soon Fontaine was bottoming out into Jack's throat with every thrust and the kid was gagging almost every time the head of his cock pushed past his uvula. Even though he was having a grand time, Fontaine kept enough control over himself to notice it if Jack tapped out. If it were just him and the kid, he wouldn't have even given the option, but since Jack was with "Atlas" right now, it wouldn't do to keep fucking his throat if he wanted him to stop.

Luckily for Fontaine, Jack seemed to be having as much fun as he was having, further evidenced when Fontaine held the kid's head still and Jack made a noise between a gag and a moan. The way the kid's eyelids fluttered as his whole body shook gave him away and Fontaine pulled Jack off his cock, looking down. Yep, there it was, the kid had cum just from getting choked on his cock. Fuck.

Shoving Jack back, Fontaine straddled the kid's chest, pinning his arms down with his knees as he did so. Yes, Jack was far stronger than him and could easily get him off if he wanted to, but sometimes power was about more than physical strength and Fontaine was well aware of the fact that he held all the power in this scenario. "What a naughty boy, cummin' before ya were told ya could." Fontaine breathed, jerking himself leisurely in front of Jack's face and watching as the kid slowly came down and realized what was happening now.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to." Jack breathed, face flushed from arousal, drool covering his chin, looking absolutely debauched and he hadn't even been fucked yet.

 _Fuck!_ "Still, I can't very well let ya go unpunished for that, now can I?" Fontaine asked, trying for a disappointed but affectionate paternal tone. "Spare the rod, spoil the child, after all." He grinned and moved forward, bracing his free hand on the floor beside Jack's head so his cock was _right_ in Jack's red face. "And you want this rod, don'tcha, boyo?" Fontaine purred, chuckling when Jack moaned lowly and nodded eagerly.

"Yes, Papa. Please." Jack breathed, his begging going right to Fontaine's cock. The kid looked fucking drunk. If Fontaine couldn't get some control over himself, he was gonna have a slip. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself long enough to wipe it from Jack's memory if he did.

"That's my good boy." Fontaine murmured, fronting a level of control he wasn’t feeling as he tapped the head of his cock against Jack's swollen bottom lip, just barely keeping it out of reach of his eager mouth. "You're gonna make good on lettin' me fuck them perky tits now." He said, moving off of Jack's arms as he nodded eagerly and quickly pressed his tits as close together as they'd go.

"Head up, now, mouth open." Fontaine commanded, lowering himself and placing his cock between Jack's pecs. It was a shallow channel, but it was a channel nonetheless and Fontaine was gonna fuck it as good as he'd ever fucked a pair of tits. "Stay just like that, don't move until I tell you, boyo."

"Yes, Papa." Jack breathed, shivering as the first thrust sent Fontaine's cock into his mouth briefly. It took the kid a few thrusts to work out the timing, but soon he was licking Fontaine's cock everytime it poked into his mouth. Looking at the picture presented under him had Fontaine letting out strained grunts with every thrust, enjoying the heady power-trip of having this absolute beast of a man so desperate for him far more than the barely-there cleavage he was working himself between.

After a bit, Fontaine's thrusts became more hurried and uneven and soon he was blasting his load all over Jack's face and in his open mouth, deciding at the last moment not to warn the kid. Jack moaned regardless and Fontaine couldn't help but smile. Leaning back on Jack's chest once he done cumming, he flashed the smile down at the kid who still had his head up and mouth open just as commanded. "Ya can relax now, boyo." He breathed, laughing a bit as Jack's head hit the floor with a _thunk_. "Took your punishment like a good boy. Papa's proud of you."

"Will you fuck me now, Papa?" Jack asked, the arousal in his voice and hunger in his eyes making Fontaine's still half-hard cock start to fill out again. "I wanna feel your thick, perfect cock inside me so badly." _Oh fuck_.

Gritting his teeth, Fontaine groaned and quickly got off of Jack, pointing at the bed. "Head down, ass up, **now**." He ordered, watching Jack scramble into position and getting onto the bed behind him. "Callin' me perfect all the damn time, got no idea what you fuckin' do t'me." Fontaine grumbled, having a hell of time keeping his "Atlas" accent up as he shoved Jack's thick thighs together and slipped his cock in between them. "Or maybe you do know." He said, thrusting slowly between Jack's muscular, trembling thighs. "Ya know what ya do t'me when ya go callin' me perfect, ya little whore?" Fontaine asked, tangling his fingers in Jack's hair and forcing him up against his chest as he kept leisurely fucking his thighs.

 _"You're pushing it."_ He told himself, having a hard time taking himself seriously as Jack moaned loudly. _"He can fucking take it, the little cock tease."_ But still, he needed to get control of himself, he couldn't risk--

"I-I know, Papa." Jack admitted, his hips stuttering back to meet Fontaine's thrusts. "But I can't help it. You're like a god."

Groaning loudly, Fontaine's control snapped like a Splicer's neck in the grip of a Big Daddy and he shoved Jack's face into the bed. Practically knocking Jack's legs apart, Fontaine all but forced two fingers into the kid's ass. He had lube in the nightstand, but that required more effort than using spit and Fontaine simply **did not** have the patience currently. "I'm gonna fuckin' destroy you." Fontaine promised above Jack, his voice barely even "Atlas'" anymore.

Nodding eagerly despite the hand pressing down on his head, Jack practically milked Fontaine's fingers with his ass. "Take me, Papa." He whined, voice slightly muffled by the mattress. It was a wonder the kid could still breath let alone talk. "Fuck every part of me, make me yours, only yours."

"Fuck." Fontaine breathed, removing his fingers and roughly replacing them with his cock. He'd barely stretched the kid and knew his spit wasn't going to be enough lube to ease his entering, but it didn't seem like Jack cared anymore than he did, both of them moaning like the uncomfortable-bordering-painful sensation was the best thing they'd ever felt in their lives. Unable at this point to give even half a fuck if Jack needed time to adjust, Fontaine started hammering into the kid.

When Fontaine's wild thrusts suddenly got a little smoother, he realized Jack was bleeding, but he still didn't care. Jack clearly didn't either since he was chanting "Papa" and "Atlas" like they were the only two words he knew. Fontaine for his part was snarling out a strangled "fuck" with just about every breath, his voice fully his own at that point. The bed was squeaking loudly under them and even banged the wall a couple times when Fontaine snapped his hips forward particularly roughly but he didn't care who knew. Let his people hear. He wasn't embarrassed and he knew for damn sure Jack wouldn't be. _Little fucking slut_.

Leaning forward, Fontaine bit hard into Jack's shoulder, the coppery taste of blood springing into his mouth as the command from earlier kept Jack's skin from being too tough for him to bite through. The moment the taste of blood hit his tongue, Fontaine was lost, his orgasm hitting him harder than any other he could remember. His hips snapped a few more times as he rode out his orgasm, Jack's shuddering tipping him off that he'd cum as well, and then he stilled. Releasing Jack's bleeding shoulder, Fontaine took a moment to breathe and collect himself before he pulled out and flopped down beside Jack, watching in mild amusement as Jack practically sank down onto the mattress before stretching out and groaning.

While he wasn't sure if it was Jack's conditioning that made him enjoy it that much or if he was really that good, Fontaine knew Jack would never forget the fucking he just got. Sighing softly, Fontaine lit up a cigarette, grinning crookedly at Jack when he looked over. After exhaling the plume of smoke from his first drag, Fontaine offered Jack a smoke and the kid took it, lighting it up with Incinerate.

After exhaling his own plume of smoke, Jack rolled onto his back, a dopey grin on his pretty face. "I think this has been the best day of my life." He muttered, looking over with a smile that could only be described as fond when Fontaine laughed.

"Think I might have to agree with you, boyo." Fontaine said, sounding just like "Atlas" again. After a bit more silence, Jack spoke up again.

"Is it just me, or are these really good?" He asked, looking down at his cigarette, the scratchiness of his voice making Fontaine feel warm inside.

"That'd be the Eve." Fontaine said, tapping his ashes off the side of the bed as he spoke. "Once you've had a taste of it, you start to notice it in things."

"I thought the rush felt familiar." Jack hummed, not surprising Fontaine in the least with his inability to figure out why. The kid was alot of things and "dense" was still near the top of the list regardless of how fond Fontaine was becoming of him.

"Makes Rapture smokes twice as addictive as surface smokes, but damn if it don't make 'em taste better." Fontaine said, glancing over at Jack and frowning a bit at his concerned expression. "Somethin' wrong, boyo?" Good lord, if the kid didn't know cigarettes were addictive--

"I know you said I won't end up all messed up from using Adam, but what about Eve?" Jack asked, looking over and seeming to relax some when Fontaine smiled and shook his head. Well, he supposed that was a fair concern.

"Nah, Eve ain't nothin' like Adam. It's addictive, alright, but it's harmless." Fontaine assured, blinking in surprise when Jack came closer and snuggled up against him, putting the arm holding his cigarette over his chest. Laughing a bit uncomfortably, Fontaine wrapped an arm around Jack. Fuck, it felt nice. It felt nice holding the kid and having him snuggled up against him. Oh, _fuuuck_ he was **smitten**. Jack was gonna be the death of him.

The following silence was uncomfortable until Fontaine decided to do some loosening up of his own, his body ahead of his mind as he came back to himself and realized he'd been tracing patterns into Jack's back. Fuck it, Jack seemed like he'd fallen harder faster so maybe it was okay for him to fall too. It didn't feel good trying to fight the warmth Jack provided him with and Fontaine had always been pretty hedonistic in his own fucked up way, so he wasn't gonna fight it.

Suddenly the cherry of his dwindling cigarette caught Fontaine's attention and he barely noticed it when Jack sat up, his own body working on auto-pilot to sit up as well. This wasn't him, though. The man Jack had fallen so hard so fast for was fake. "Atlas" would never be real. There was still the very real possibility that when it came time to tell Jack that, he'd reject him. Fontaine wasn't interested in having Jack like this if Jack couldn't accept the real him. He'd keep him around his good little brainwashed puppet, sure, but now that he'd had a taste of it, he wanted his boy, not a puppet. Jack wouldn't be his boy if he had to force him to be, it wouldn't be the same as that indescribably euphoric feeling of being able to control Jack without using his trigger phrase if he had to force him to submit first.

"You okay, Papa?" Jack asked softly, offering Fontaine a heart-meltingly soft smile when he snapped out of his thoughts. Fontaine managed a crooked smile, realizing dimly that Jack was touching his arm.

"Yeah, just thinkin' is all." Fontaine half-lied, rolling his stub of a cigarette between his fingers a bit and eyeing Jack's chest for a moment before meeting his eyes. "Wanna try somethin' ya might not like, boyo." He said softly, coming closer to Jack and bringing the red-hot cherry of his cigarette inches from Jack's chest. He had to know. He had to know if Jack would let him have this. If Jack would accept a random sadistic urge or two from "Atlas" then it might not be so hard to get him used to his frequent mood-swings as himself. Jack had already accepted some abuse and even liked it, so maybe there was hope.

Jack's breath seemed to catch and he met Fontaine's dark gaze, giving a slight nod after a moment. Fontaine didn't hesitate or give the kid a chance to change his mind, pressing forward instantly and grinding his cigarette out against the top of Jack's tit. He gasped softly in what sounded like pain, but Fontaine's attention was caught by his dick twitching lightly.

Letting out a low, throaty laugh as himself accidentally, Fontaine removed the cigarette. There was hope. Fontaine had never been a hopeful man, choosing to rely more on himself and what he could do to make things happen than such a petty notion, but for fuck's sake, there was hope. "Lucked out gettin' you before Rapture could, boyo." He breathed, tossing his stubbed out cigarette aside and leaning in to lightly kiss the burn he'd made on Jack's chest. "Not gonna letcha get back to the surface. Gonna keep you here with me." He was rambling, he dimly knew that as he kissed up to Jack's neck and started giving him a few hickies, but he couldn't help it, the words wouldn't stay in his head.

"I'd like that." Jack breathed back, Fontaine able to feel his racing pulse under his lips. "I wanna stay with you, Papa."

"You're not goin' anywhere." Fontaine promised, cupping Jack's cheek and kissing him possessively for a few seconds before pulling back. "You're mine now." Another kiss, the words wouldn't stop, he found he meant them. "Mine forever." Another kiss, this one including tongue, Jack breathing out a quiet "Papa" against Fontaine's lips. They kissed like that for a bit before Fontaine pulled away, sighing softly and feeling a little better, a little more in control. "Let's get cleaned up and then I'll let you in on what exactly I'm tryin' to accomplish down here."

Jack smiled at him like he hadn't just put a cigarette out on his chest moments ago and followed him to the restroom. They showered together and then Fontaine managed to scrounge up some clothes that would actually fit Jack's large frame while their clothes got washed. Once that was done, they left Fontaine's room and moved into the living room, Fontaine's people gathering when he moved to stand in front of a small group of couches.

"I know I already introduced you lot to Jack and I'm sure you heard more than your fair share of how close we are, but this is Jack, he's the one who's gonna help us take Rapture back from Ryan." Fontaine introduced, wrapping his arm around Jack's shoulders and smiling at him when his people gave him a few hesitant greetings. It was a bit of a balancing act, being Fontaine enough to keep his people good and afraid while keeping up "Atlas" for Jack. Fontaine managed though, he'd been practicing walking this line for awhile, after all.

The next few hours consisted of Fontaine telling Jack about the revolution that they'd lost and about their new plan which had been quickly modified to center on him instead of the entire crew Fontaine had originally believed they'd need. Jack seemed real excited to play his part even when that part was revealed to be killing Andrew Ryan. All Jack did was nod and assure he could handle it, waving away Fontaine's warnings of how dangerous it would be.

"Well, I guess that settles it, then." Fontaine said, grinning proudly and clapping Jack's shoulder. "We just got a few more areas of Rapture to march through and then we can get to Ryan and you'll get him outta the way."

"And then you'll get Rapture back on her feet." Jack replied, smiling at Fontaine like they were the only two people in the room.

Nodding firmly, Fontaine released Jack's shoulder and stretched. "Suppose you need to get some rest before we get movin'." Did Jack even require sleep? He hadn't slowed down or looked tired since he got here. Was that his genetics or the Adam? Both?

Shaking his head, Jack looked eager. "No, I'm ready to go as soon as you are." He frowned a bit then, looking slightly concerned. "I actually haven't felt tired since I got here." Yep, there it was. Well, he couldn't very well suggest it was Jack's genetics since that was still a secret, so he'd go with the other explanation.

After motioning for his crew to leave, Fontaine pulled Jack aside, a calm, reassuring sort of smile on his face. "Ever wonder why ya never come across a sleepin' Splicer, boyo?" He realized he was putting alot of faith in Jack to have noticed something, but he was feeling confident in the kid's abilities at the moment. Jack took a bit to puzzle it out, but once he thought he had it, his face lit up and it made Fontaine's smile a little more genuine.

"It's the Adam, isn't it?"

Clapping Jack on the shoulder, Fontaine gave the kid a proud grin. "Quick as whip, lad." He lied, shaking his head fondly at how long it had taken Jack to puzzle it out. Adorable idiot. "Ya sure you're ready to get movin' so soon?" Fontaine asked, trying to sound all concerned and paternal as he mentally mapped out the path they'd take to Ryan.

Giving a firm nod, Jack smiled downright lovingly at him. "I'm sure." He confirmed, earning himself a dashing smile from Fontaine.

"Alright, boyo. The ‘sphere'll take you as far as I can get you safely and then the rest'll be up to you." Fontaine said, helping Jack get his gear back into place on his body.

"Don't worry, Papa, I can--" Jack started to say, having just turned his radio back on and instantly getting interrupted by Mr. Boner-Killer himself. Fontaine could swear Jack cringed almost as hard as he himself did, even if his own cringe was internal.

"I suppose you think yourself rather clever, hiding away with Atlas where I can't see you." Ryan said calmly, Jack's hand going for the dial once again before Fontaine reached out and stopped him.

"Hold on, lad, let 'im vent. Ryan ain't good for much, but sometimes his temper tantrums are the closest you get to comedy down here." Fontaine said, grinning at Jack and looking down at the radio expectantly.

"Ah, you're still with your _Papa Atlas_ I see." Ryan spat, practically gagging out "Papa Atlas" and making Fontaine's grin widen. _That's right, Ryan, you fucking cunt, your son calls me daddy too. Suck on that._ Not that Ryan knew that, but he wasn't stupid, he'd figure it out. "Grand. Here's a message for both of you, then." Fontaine looked at Jack in amusement, both eyebrows raised and he managed to get a small smile from Jack who looked a nod away from tearing through Rapture to hunt Ryan down. "Though you may have managed to reach part of your--" A click of his tongue and a scoff. "-- _family_ with your toy's help, I can guarantee you'll never reach the others before the good people of Rapture do."

Eyes widening, Fontaine's grin was gone just like that. The others had made it? But they hadn't radioed him. He'd checked, but he couldn't see through the bathysphere doors to see if there was movement inside. He'd assumed the rest of his people had chickened out and not come down or had died somehow on the way down. Hacking a genetically coded miniature submarine wasn't exactly easy, after all, there was lots of room for little errors that could compound into the pressure stabilizers malfunctioning or the oxygen tanks releasing into the ocean instead of into the ‘sphere.

That was all Ryan had to say on the matter though, the dramatic bitch, and Jack looked over at him with wide eyes. "More of your family is trapped down here?"

"I-- well, there were more bathyspheres, but I-I hadn't heard from 'em since-- I-I didn't think any of the others made it." Fontaine stammered, his mind racing. If he could convince Jack to get the rest of his people, he'd have a real army behind him with Jack as the cherry on top.

"We have to save them!" Jack said eagerly, cutting off Fontaine's thoughts and then frowning. " **I** have to save them." He corrected, taking Fontaine's hand gently. "You have to let me save them for you. You stay here and be my guide, I'll do all the leg-work." Fontaine started to open his mouth to play coy since this was going to be easier than he thought, but Jack cut him off. "Please. I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt. Stay here, stay safe. I can handle it on my own."

Stuck between wanting to gag a little and feeling touched, Fontaine simply sighed and gave Jack a nod, trying to look concerned for the kid. "Alright, boyo. I'll hang back, be your guide." He agreed, giving Jack's hand a squeeze. The kid smiled again and then surprised Fontaine by pecking his lips.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack said softy, quickly finishing up putting his gear on and boarding the bathysphere. Before he could close the door, Fontaine leaned in, pulled his face close, and kissed him breathless, feeling another wave of possessiveness for the little freak that he needed to ride out somehow. He couldn't tell Jack that though, so he quickly thought of something for when he pulled back. Gratitude seemed believable.

"Thank you so much, Jack. I don't know how I'll ever repay you for all this." Fontaine said softly once he'd pulled away, brushing his hand against Jack's cheek in an approximation of affection. Fontaine wasn't all that big on affection. A light pop on the ass, a kiss without any teeth, maybe a few fingers in your hair that didn't pull, that was affectionate for Fontaine. Anything gentler and it was purely for show, a way to manipulate someone. Like right now.

"Tell me you meant it when you said I was yours." Jack whispered, looking drunk and sounding breathless. _Infatuated. Obsessed. Hopeless. **Perfect.**_

"I meant it, boyo, every word." Fontaine said, kissing Jack again though much more briefly and effortlessly masking the surprise he was feeling towards himself. "Once this is all over, I'll prove it to you, you'll see." He promised, hoping Jack wouldn't look too deep into that but deciding it would be worth the risk so that later, when everything came to a head and it was time for the other shoe to drop, Jack would know, he could remember that promise.

Only looking a little confused until Fontaine offered him a smile, Jack nodded and backed up into the bathysphere fully. Fontaine moved away and Jack sealed the door, the bathysphere lowering slowly into the ocean. Once it was out of sight, Fontaine ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He needed to get control of himself. Love was bad for business, he couldn't be in love, it had to be something less dangerous. An obsession with the knowledge that he could bend someone as powerful as Jack to his will effortlessly or an appreciation for his body. Anything but actual fucking love.

Shaking his head again, Fontaine decided he didn't have time to ponder this shit and made his way to his office. He needed to get as many of his people rescued as he could and the only way he could do that was if he focused on leading Jack to the bathyspheres. Sitting down at his desk, Fontaine poured himself a glass of his strongest whiskey and pulled out the maps of his old smuggling ports. Just as he was mapping out the first path he'd have Jack take, the kid spoke up.

"I'm ready, Papa, tell me where to go."

"There should be a door on your left that you may have to persuade to open." Fontaine instructed, watching Jack locate the door and trying the tried and true method of zapping the control panel before going for the brute-force method of getting it open. "Atta boy." He praised, taking a quick swig of whiskey and enjoying the grounding burn as Jack practically jogged down the path he'd opened. "Hang a right up ahead now."

Jack obeyed, killing a Splicer or two on the way, but not losing any momentum as Fontaine kept him going in the right direction. When Jack got to the first bathysphere, Fontaine watched him open the door, which would've been more of a treat if it weren't for the button-up he was wearing which obscured Fontaine's view of his muscles, but still. Sure enough, the people within were alive and Fontaine felt a rush of excitement. Ryan and his big fucking mouth had made this all possible. Fontaine would be sure to use some real pretty, expensive marble for the engraved paperweight he planned on commemorating him with. _“In spiteful memory of Andrew Fucking Ryan. Rest in pieces, you uppity cunt.”_

"Alright, you lot, you know where the safehouse is." Fontaine said from Jack's hip, bringing his family to attention. "Jack'll escort you as long as he can and then you're on your own." They knew about the whole "Atlas" thing, all of his people did, so they wouldn't risk slipping up by making small-talk with Jack or addressing Fontaine, hopefully, and would simply do as they were told. When Jack got back on the path, Fontaine went back to instructing. "Keep followin' the signs for Selkie Street." He said, switching one map for another. "My family'll be breaking off from ya just before you get there."

"Got it." Jack confirmed, making Fontaine smile a bit around his cup. He was acting so serious, like this was the most important mission of his life. It was cute, endearing even. _Focus!_ Right. Glancing up, Fontaine saw where Jack was and looked back down at his map.

"Alright. Now, in a place called The Cove, there--" Fontaine started, cringing as the line suddenly burst into static. Fucking shit, not now!

"This is a fool's errand, don't you see?" Ryan said, making Fontaine roll his eyes. He immediately pulled his control board close and started trying to hack the frequency. "Your precious _Papa_ is only using you to help him amass his army of parasites so they can further taint my city." He growled, putting his usual disgusted emphasis on "Papa" and making Fontaine look up when he heard a loud noise only to see that Jack had ripped the entire front-fucking-door off The Cove. Snickering quietly to himself, Fontaine shook his head and kept working. Ryan was so fucked when Jack got to him.

"You know, _Andrew_ ," Jack started, putting a spiteful emphasis on the man's name, which made Fontaine smile even more. "I'm pretty sure one of the _other_ channels has a better signal. You should really consider switching over." Ha! Atta boy!

Apparently Ryan found Jack funny too and Fontaine glanced up at the screen in time to see Jack clenching his fists in a very telling way. "Ah, you've got fire in you." Ryan said, almost sounding pleased. "I will take immense pleasure in snuffing it out."

Scoffing, Fontaine flipped another switch. He was muttering to himself about the nerve of Ryan threatening his ace when the line blurred with static again and Fontaine straightened up. "Boyo?" He asked, not sure if he'd actually gotten the line back.

"Hey, Papa." Jack replied, sounding much less angry than Fontaine thought he would. "I'm in The Cove."

"I see you, lad. Head to the basement. There's a door disguised as a shelf that'll take ya to the next 'sphere." Fontaine instructed, flipping the map he was looking at around and scouring it for the route he needed. Jack's voice brought Fontaine out of his searching and he looked up to see the kid talking with one of his people.

"He, uh, he wasn't real big on tight spaces." Tess was saying, looking a fair bit distressed. "When the bathy wouldn't open, he started to panic and we-we couldn't calm him down. Then he just-- stopped."

"Damn it." Fontaine muttered, sounding equal parts sad and angry even though he was mostly just annoyed. "I'd hoped we'd get to Jessie before he--" He sighed deeply, cutting himself off before he said "could die like a little bitch". "We gotta keep movin' though, the longer ya stand around, the more Splicers Ryan can get movin' on your location." Fontaine said, trying for resigned and somber. Not like one guy was gonna make a difference. Jessie had always been kinda mousy anyway. He'd been damn good with numbers though. Ah well.

"Right." Jack said, easily taking care of a few Splicers upstairs as he led the group out of The Cove.

"You start goin' the way you were when you got here, my family'll be headin' in a different direction." Fontaine informed, rolling his eyes a bit when Jack hesitated. All that love of killing people and he still had the nerve to look so concerned for "Atlas' family". Fontaine might've found it cute a few minutes ago, but his mood had since swung and it was currently annoying. "Don't worry, boyo, they're a tough lot and the safehouse ain't far."

"Alright." Jack said uncertainly, shooting one more look to the group before jogging onwards.

Pursing his lips a bit, Fontaine pulled the radio closer and lowered his voice. "Look, about what Ryan said t'you--" He started, getting cut off as Jack snorted, surprising him into silence.

"Sorry." Jack muttered, huffing angrily. "He's so full of shit, though. I can't believe he really thinks I would take his word over yours."

Laughing softly, Fontaine started planning out what the statue dedicated to Suchong's ability to create stupidly loyal sleeper agents was going to look like. "Good, good. I seen too many good men and women get won over by that man. I'm glad you're stronger than all that." He said, sounding quite relieved. He'd _stupidly_ believed that Ryan might've gotten through to the kid, but he should've known better. The kid was still dense as brick and Fontaine was damn glad for it.

"Don't worry, Papa, I trust you completely. Nothing _Ryan_ could say will change that." Jack said smiling until Fontaine let out a noise between a snort of laughter and a choked-off groan that he couldn't quite stifle in time. Reeling himself in quickly, Fontaine tried to sound real touched so Jack would stop paying attention to the slip.

"That's good to know, boyo." He said softly, knowing he'd done the tone justice when Jack smiled again and kept right on truckin' like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As he guided Jack through Rapture, Fontaine wondered idly if it was a kink or a complex that made him want to bend the kid over his desk and fuck him stupider everytime he said shit like that. Maybe it was both. A power kink and a god complex mingling perfectly to create a whirlwind of violent lust deep inside him whenever Jack opened that stupid, sexy mouth of his. Fontaine realized with a hint of amusement that he'd be quite the wrathful god, definitely one to be feared and pleased at all costs.

The sound of an explosion took Fontaine off auto-pilot and he sat up straighter, checking his monitors and finding a few of them were out, not even showing static on the feed. "Jack!? Lad, are you alright?" Fontaine shouted, finding he was actually worried and trying hard not to dwell on it until he got an answer. "I heard the blast, but I can't see anythin', are--"

"I'm fine, Papa." Jack's voice crackled over, sounding a little strained like he was in pain. "I'm okay." He said again after a bit, making Fontaine slump in his chair.

"Thank god." He breathed, running a hand through his hair and licking his lips before straightening up and looking at the black screens again. "Is-- the 'sphere is gone, isn't it?" Fontaine asked softly, even as he knew those cameras wouldn't stop showing something, even if it was only static. for anything less than their feed wires having been destroyed. Whacking them with a wrench didn't do that, shooting them didn't, most things didn't. An explosion big enough to actually hurt Jack would just about do it though.

It took Jack a minute to answer and when he did, he sounded so sad, so apologetic, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah. I-I'm so sorry, Papa."

"It's not your fault, boyo." Fontaine said, his voice soft and reassuring before hardening into an anger he didn't really feel. "It's Ryan's." Yeah, losing a whole bathysphere worth of people sucked quite a bit, but it wasn't anything worth shedding a tear over. _However_ , losing a whole bathysphere of _family_ was definitely worthy of some played-up anger.

After a moment of silence, Fontaine heard Jack take a deep breath. "There's more subs, right? We won't reach them by dwelling." He said, the determination in his voice surprising Fontaine a bit.

"Aren't you hurt?" He asked, trying to sound concerned instead of surprised.

"I'm fine." Jack assured, finally showing up as he exited the blast-radius and found a camera to shoot a smile at. "I used a Quik-Heal and I already feel much better. I can keep going."

The blood all over Jack's head and face and his torn, singed clothes said otherwise, but Fontaine wasn't about to coddle a six-foot-four, three-hundred pound man on a mission. "Alright." Fontaine said uncertainly despite his conviction, letting out a sigh when Jack simply kept moving determinedly. "Alright, head back towards Selkie Street and this time go right."

"Got it." Jack said, following Fontaine's instructions and rescuing two more bathyspheres while Fontaine himself juggled an influx of reports. His other radios were demanding his attention and he was quietly giving instruction to them while telling Jack where to go and what to do. It was alot to juggle all at once and Fontaine wanted to be annoyed, but _fuck_ he had missed this. He had missed feeling stressed out and overwhelmed, missed the feeling of having to juggle a dozen tasks while being pulled in a hundred different directions.

In reality, when he was able to spare a thought to think of it, Fontaine realized he had missed the feeling that things were progressing. His life had become so boring after the war and before Jack had returned. Granted, that hadn't been a very long stretch of time, but still. Fontaine was a man who thrived so long he kept himself busy and this was the busiest he'd been in what felt like ages. Fontaine wanted to be annoyed, but he was actually smiling more than he had in awhile.

Despite the sudden increase in people needing his attention, everything was going smooth. Smooth up until Jack reached a room and Fontaine, upon hearing what sounded like a whole horde of Splicers being dealt with, looked up. The scene that greeted him almost made him drop his cigarette from his mouth and he had to clamp his teeth down on the filter to keep it in place. Fontaine could see the carnage from a couple of different angles and could tell even as Jack was tearing into them and making the room messier that not all the corpses on the ground were Splicers.

"Jesus Christ." Fontaine swore, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Two ‘spheres of perfectly loyal lackeys down the damn drain. For being the one to start them on this whole hunt, Ryan sure wasn't making this easy.

"How could Ryan do this? Why does he hate you so much that he'd do something so--" Jack broke off, his voice sounding strained.

"Somethin' you learn real quick about Andrew Ryan when you get down here is that he doesn't like it when people disagree with him." Fontaine replied more calmly than he'd meant to, realizing his tone was off too late to fix it and deciding to roll with it. "That was the point of Rapture, after all, a place where there's no gods or kings except the beloved Andrew Ryan whose word was the only law." A bit of spite, mostly resignation, keep it calm and suddenly his tone wasn't so off, suddenly it was something almost human.

"I can't wait to kill him." Jack whispered, surprising Fontaine a bit. So the kid was back to bloodthirsty. That was good, he supposed.

"That makes two of us." Fontaine replied, sighing and getting out a different map. "There should be a back exit from the dock. Take it and follow the signs to Athena Square." Jack followed his instructions, and Fontaine traced his finger down the path Jack would take as he spoke. "Three buildings here have secret docks. Perkin's Paperbacks, Ebb and Flow, and The Bitter Clam."

"Got it." Jack said, Fontaine looking up at the screen when he heard a stomping it felt like he hadn't heard in awhile. Quickly stubbing out his fucked up cigarette and snatching up his refilled glass of whiskey, Fontaine clicked all the radios besides Jack's off and settled in for a show. His other minions could wait a few minutes, Fontaine liked watching Jack fight Big Daddies too much to get distracted by work for it.

Ah, and the kid didn't disappoint, Fontaine had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing as Jack used a whole-ass fucking statue to beat the Big Daddy into a bloody-fucking-pulp. There was no way a normal person could lift something so large using just a Plasmid, Fontaine refused to believe it. He wasn't sure if that meant Jack was mentally stronger than he realized or if physical strength played more of a role in using Telekinesis than Fontaine thought, but he decided it didn't matter right then.

Cringing as Jack bit the head off a particularly plump Adam slug and dangled it over his mouth, Fontaine started to look away. He started to, but something about the way Jack looked made him pause. He looked almost eager to down the rest of the slug, not reluctantly resolved like usual. Sure enough, when the kid dropped the slug into his mouth and bit down, he hummed and Fontaine retched quietly, shuddering as he saw Jack lick away the remaining traces of Adam and slug on his lips like it was divine nectar.

Lighting another cigarette, Fontaine took a deep drag to calm his nerves and focused on telling his people what they needed to do once Jack got them freed from whichever establishment he was in. While Jack hunted for the next secret port, Fontaine turned the other radios back on, quietly dealing with the chaos that unleashed in his makeshift office until a burst of static from Jack's radio caught his attention. Not again! Groaning in a way that shut everyone else up, Fontaine started working on hacking into the signal again while Ryan started fucking talking.

"Two bathyspheres full of your _Papa's_ "family" destroyed and still you both persist?" If Fontaine weren't so annoyed, he might've found it funny that Ryan was **still** trying to kink shame Jack for the whole "Papa" thing. "Are you really so desperate for the approval of a man you don't even know that you're willing to help him destroy what's left of my beautiful city?"

"As opposed to being so stupid as to listen to the man who kills people for _smuggling_ of all things, yeah. Yeah, I am." Jack replied, earning a condescending scoff from Ryan and a proud nod from Fontaine. _You tell 'im, kid, show that self-righteous mook you ain't buyin' what he's sellin'._

"Surely you don't think I'm naive enough to believe you're doing this for any other reason than that you're sickeningly infatuated with that most bothersome parasite Atlas?" Glancing up, Fontaine caught Jack's reaction to that and shook his head. Ooh, Ryan had done it now. Having gotten distracted, Fontaine placed a wire wrong and got zapped by his board, briefly getting distracted again by cussing before he could get back to hacking.

"You know, I'm starting to think you're jealous of me and Atlas. Is that it, _Andrew_? Did you have a crush on Atlas or something and now you're upset that he has me?" Jack asked, sounding for all the world like a fucking brat and making Fontaine's lip twitch up into a smirk despite himself.

"What a petty, immature thing to assume. Though I suppose that's to be expected from one of Atlas' bit--" Flipping a switch, the line cut into static before clearing up.

"Finally!" Fontaine groaned, his accent _this_ close to slipping in his frustration. "Ya've no idea how hard it is to hack a radio frequency." When Jack's only response was to smile and carry on with what he was doing, Fontaine felt some of his anger drain away. "You're in awful high spirits for someone who's just had to sit through a famous Ryan rant." He said, voice betraying that Jack had lightened his mood. _By smiling._ If there were any sane doctors left in Rapture, Fontaine would deeply consider giving them a call. Something was clearly wrong with him.

Jack let out a giggle that made Fontaine's heart flutter before he replied. "It's like you said, Papa, he's almost funny. You just have to get past how sad and annoying he is." He added the last part with a grumble, getting the bathysphere door he was working on open.

"I saw what you did to that desk, boyo." Fontaine responded, not really needing to add anything else and seeing Jack's cheeks darken.

"He called you a parasite." Jack mumbled defensively, making Fontaine chuckle warmly. Damn. The kid could sure be cute when he wanted to.

Turning his attention to his crew, Fontaine gave them some brief instructions but kept getting distracted by the fact that Jack was taking his shirt off, revealing the slightly too-small undershirt he had on underneath. _Good god_ , what a fucking specimen. The off-white muscle shirt was stretched over Jack's body and showed off everything _just_ the way Fontaine liked to see it. Somehow, Fontaine managed to give his crew coherent instructions but kept his eyes on Jack once everything got moving again.

If it killed the rest of his people, he was going to see Jack turn the wheel of a bathysphere door in just that undershirt. A small bonus came in the form of getting to watch Jack swing that wrench of his at some Splicers' heads. Sighing softly, Fontaine pulled his other radios closer and tried to divide his attention between watching Jack closely and helping his people sort out anything they needed. Oh, and it was absolutely worth it when Jack reached the last secret port of the area and found it swarmed with Splicers.

Jack fought the horde like he was shooting fish in a barrel and then Fontaine got his ultimate prize, all but drooling as Jack's back and arm muscles flexed with the strain of turning the wheel on the bathysphere without pulling hard enough to break it. _Fuck._ Fontaine liked a curvy woman just fine, and little guys were dandy when he was in the mood for that, but there just wasn't anything like rippling fucking muscles no matter whose body they were on.

Realizing things were becoming awkward in the room while Fontaine ogled Jack, Fontaine started talking, telling this batch the same as he had the others. "Just three more to go, boyo." Fontaine informed once the crew had fucked off and Jack was still standing there, probably lost in whatever kinds of thoughts he managed to dwell on even with "loosen up" rattling around in his brain. "Head to the back of the square and take the path that leads to Mariana Plaza."

"Right." Jack said, sounding distracted but doing as he was told after stopping briefly at the Gatherer's Garden in the area. The kid made it to the plaza quick enough and hunted down the first ‘sphere real quick. Fontaine noticed that the people inside didn't look too good and cursed Rapture for how hard it was to keep time there. He had no idea how long the ‘spheres would've been docked but it appeared they were running out of air. Jack was gonna have to double-time to get to the other two in time.

Seeming to realize that on his own, Jack was moving faster than before and Fontaine was having a devil of a time keeping up with him, especially when the kid started vaulting rubble like a damn gymnast. Damn, but it was nice to watch him move though. No! Focus! Shaking his head, Fontaine kept playing guide, flopping back in his chair in mild exhaustion when Jack finally reached where he needed to be. Then he realized he couldn't see the room Jack was entering and he tensed up, his suspicions confirmed when Jack spoke.

"Damn it."

"What is it, lad?" Fontaine asked, concern lacing his voice even as he felt strongly he already knew what.

"We're too late for this one. It-it's blown up." Jack replied, sounding just as sad as the last time.

"Alright. Just one more to go, then." Fontaine sighed, somber and resigned as before now that he'd mastered it. "Across the way there should be some stairs leadin' down. Beside that is a storage closet. That--" A burst of static and Fontaine got to see what Jack looked like fighting when angry.

"I see you--" A loud crunch as Jack bashed a Splicer's head in. "still haven't--" A shrill scream as Jack electrocuted another Splicer before almost knocking her head off with an underhanded whack to the jaw. "Do you mind?" Ryan asked huffily, making Fontaine laugh despite himself.

"I do, actually." Jack replied, shooting a Splicer he'd just lit on fire and ceasing their screaming. "So if you could just fuck off and save the talking for a quarter past never, that'd be great."

"Charming." Ryan grumbled sarcastically, Fontaine mimicking him before he sighed and started trying to hack the wave **again**. "I see why Atlas enjoys your company so much. You certainly match him in class."

"Well considering Atlas is a god among men, I'm gonna take that as high praise even from you." Jack replied, making Fontaine pause and look at the screen that showed Jack standing inside the closet he needed. Ryan let out a bark of laughter and he was surprised the kid didn't break anything.

"Oh, yes, _godly_ Atlas." Ryan said, a mocking laugh in his voice. "I suppose you tell him such drivel to his face. That would explain even more clearly why he seems so attached to you." He sighed mockingly and Fontaine could practically see Jack's patience wearing dangerously thin. "I'll tell you what, once the good people of Rapture manage to pin you for me and I find and exterminate Atlas, I'll be sure to bury you together. How's that sound?"

Leaning in as Jack took his radio from his hip and brought it close to his face, Fontaine had entirely forgotten about hacking the wave. "When I get around to you, Ryan, and I _will_ get around to you, I'm going to rip your tongue out of your head and stick it so far up your ass that you'll be able to taste what you had for dinner last week." Jack promised, his voice dripping with a venom that made the darkest part of Fontaine's heart stutter.

When Ryan was actually fucking quiet for once, Fontaine started to laugh. Then the line switched back over with the usual burst of static and Fontaine laughed even harder. "Jesus, I think you scared 'im off!" He chortled, having a hard time drawing breath from how hard he was laughing. "I was in the middle of hackin' back in and he just gave me the wave back!" Not entirely true, but he couldn't very tell Jack he'd just been listening in instead of helping.

"He started it." Jack grumbled, still sounding annoyed despite a small smile playing his face as he helped the people trapped in the final bathysphere.

"Oh, aye, that he did." Fontaine agreed, sighing happily and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "And you finished it, boyo."

Huffing, Jack smiled a bit more. "Well, I'm glad one of us enjoyed that little exchange."

Letting out one last chuckle, Fontaine focused on addressing his people. "Jack here'll escort you all to the safehouse. Someone's gonna need to take the lead though. He doesn't bite. Be nice." He said, watching Jack smile at the group.

"He's right, I don't bite." He offered meekly, Tanner being the one to come forward and give Jack a nod.

"This way." Tanner said, motioning with his head the way Jack had come and taking the lead. Fontaine watched Jack as he spoke quietly into his other radios and kept an ear on the conversation. "I'm Tanner, by the way." He offered, shooting Jack an uncertain smile over his shoulder.

"It's a pleasure." Jack replied, offering Tanner an uncertain smile of his own. _Cute._

"Suppose Atlas must trust you an awful lot to let you come get us like this." Tanner said after a bit, making Fontaine narrow his eyes. _Don't say anythin' you'll regret, kid, I always liked you._

Luckily Jack spoke up and kept Tanner from making any poor decisions. "He can hear us."

"I do trust Jack." Fontaine said, taking that as his cue to speak up and deciding he didn't need to lace his voice with any more threat than the fact that he could hear them already gave. "Keep to it now."

"Right." Tanner said, flashing Jack another awkward smile and picking up the pace. Fontaine nodded and went back to his other radios. The traffic was dying down now and Fontaine hoped he could go back to focusing at least mostly on Jack soon. Once the last of his people were tucked away in their safehouse, Fontaine set the other radios aside, needing to focus for this next bit.

"Thank you so much for doin' this for me, Jack." He said softly, his voice gentle.

"Of course, Papa." Jack breathed, shooting the camera closest to him a smile. "I would do anything for you, you don't have to thank me."

"Still." Fontaine murmured, forcing his throat tighter so he'd sound like he was holding back tears before clearing his throat lightly to clear the nonexistent tears up. "D'you need to take a breather before we head on to Arcadia?"

"No, I'm ready to go." Jack assured, heading for the exit of Mariana Plaza and following Fontaine's instructions from there to get to Arcadia. Jack was a fucking trooper and he even had quite a bit of pep in his step as he moved. Even though it was quite the walk he had ahead of him, he'd make good time at this rate and then Fontaine would be one step closer to getting rid of Ryan.


	7. Arcadia Jack PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes his way through Arcadia where he had several changes of heart, learns some new things about himself, and then has a change of plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Altas, Andrew Ryan, Julie Langford
> 
> Relationships: Atlas/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Masochism, Light Auto-Erotic Electrocution, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Murder, Sadism, Non-Explicit Child Murder, Drug Use, Obsessive Behaviour, Idolatry, Bee Stings, Blood and Gore

After about half an hour of walking, Jack finally made it to the bulkhead to Arcadia. As soon as Jack was through, his radio crackled with static and Jack almost bent the handle of his wrench when the voice that piped up was Ryan. Worst of all, he seemed completely fine, as if their last little chat hadn't even happened.

"I came to this place to build the impossible. You came to rob what you could never build." Ryan said, tone far less disdainful than Jack had expected, which wasn't to say it wasn't full of disdain, because it absolutely was. "A Hun, gaping at the gates of Rome. Even the air you breathe is sponged from my account." He paused, very briefly, as though savoring the moment. "Well, breathe deep, so later you might remember the taste."

The line blurred with static again before Jack could reply and this time Atlas' voice greeted him. "Guess you didn't scare 'im off after all." He sighed, sounding slightly disappointed.

"I guess not." Jack muttered, breaking a lock off a door with his hands instead of using the wrench. The door opened and Jack was treated to the lovely sight of lush greenery and marble structures, the view calming his temper somewhat.

"You get to the bathysphere in Rollin' Hills and that'll get you one step closer t'the devil himself." Atlas informed, changing the subject and making Jack pick up the pace.

"Got it." He went through a door and gasped softly at how pretty the whole area was. There was a river with little bridges to cross it and grass and small trees. It was breathtaking. Crossing over the water, Jack almost reluctantly moved onto the next area, frowning a bit as he heard a voice calling for help. The hairs on the back of Jack's neck stood on end and he readied Electro Bolt in his left hand, his right gripping his wrench tightly.

Walking slowly through the next door, Jack looked around and his eye was caught by movement. His head jerked to the side and a man quickly ducked around a corner further down a hall after motioning very briefly at Jack. Electricity started to crackle up to Jack's elbow as he slowly walked down the hall, rounding on the corner to find nothing but a few rose petals falling to the ground.

Frowning deeper, Jack heard the voice call for help again, looking to the side to see the same man dash up some stairs Jack had passed to get to the corner the man had disappeared around. "Houdini Splicers." Atlas whispered from his hip, making Jack jump. "They can teleport. Seems this one's tryin' to lure you into a trap."

"Oh, they can teleport now." Jack mumbled, walking a bit more quickly over to the stairs. "That's just great." Atlas chuckled warmly at his hip and it soothed Jack's nerves until he heard someone shout "hello, beautiful" behind him and spun around to find nothing but rose petals. "I'm gonna kill you so hard." Jack muttered at the petals, stomping up the stairs and spinning around when he suddenly sensed a presence behind him.

The lightning was flying from Jack's hand before his mind even processed that it was a Splicer behind him but he managed to pull himself out of it quickly enough that he was able to cave the Splicer's head in before he could stop convulsing. Huffing in aggravation, Jack spun around again as he heard the mad ramblings of another Splicer nearby, this one getting the same treatment as the last as he charged at Jack. After waiting a moment to see if anything else was going to jump out at him, Jack sighed lightly and kept moving.

There was a door on his left that led to more trouble which Jack easily took care of, a small river of oil leading right to the trouble in question making his job easy after a quick blast of Incinerate. Once the fire died down, Jack passed through another door with two more Splicers and a turret waiting for him. Finally Jack saw a sign for Rapture Metro and picked up the pace again.

Hurrying down some stairs, Jack nearly ran into another Splicer, having to whack that one twice since the first hit was a sloppy panic-smack that didn't quite get the job done. Upon turning a corner, a bright pink neon light caught Jack's attention. "Arcadia Glens" is what it read and since there wasn't anything promising nearby, Jack passed through it. 

Just through the door, Jack witnessed a Splicer getting killed by another Splicer, the victor shouting about the area being theirs. The victor then got electrocuted by Jack and promptly had the back of his head caved in by a wrench. It was almost-- **casual** at this point, taking lives. Jack definitely didn't think as much of it as he had at first. In fact, at some point it had become fun all by itself. Where it had originally just been fun to do it a certain way, there wasn't anything like watching a group of Splicers convulse under Electro Bolt while standing in a puddle, it was now just fun to kill.

Jack knew that should bother him, but it didn't. Couldn't, really, but mostly didn't. He'd been slowly coming to terms with being a bad person even without the constant whispered reminder to loosen up whenever he so much as tried to dwell on anything that **should** bother him. The thundering footsteps of a Big Daddy pulled Jack from his thoughts and he tilted his head in surprise when he found the creature. It was different. This one had more red in its color scheme and had two hands instead of the usual massive drill on one hand.

Humming softly, Jack pulled out his grenade launcher, idly wondering if this version would be tougher than the usual ones he fought as he took aim and fired. While the Big Daddy roared in anger, Jack got another shot off and then was surprised by an explosive being thrown his way. Luckily Jack's reflexes had been finely honed by Rapture and he easily caught the explosive with Telekinesis, throwing it back at the hulking creature before it could detonate.

While he was catching the explosive, the Big Daddy had taken aim with its massive gun and fired just as the explosive hit it in the face. Jack moved in time to avoid getting a rivet through the heart, but that meant his arm took it instead, causing Jack to let out a short cry of pain. He could officially take everything up to buckshot and shrug it off easily enough thanks to the splicing he'd been doing, but that rivet pierced him effortlessly and was now caught in his arm, causing a hot spark of pain to lance through his entire arm whenever he so much as twitched his fingers.

Gritting his teeth, Jack threw aside his grenade launcher, focusing on the Big Daddy and avoiding two more rivets before-- yes! Jack caught the explosive the Big Daddy threw at him with his good arm and tossed it back quickly, killing the creature before it could take aim with its gun. Sighing shakily, Jack looked at his injured arm and held his breath as he wrapped his hand around the rivet. He resolved to count to three, but pulled at two, crying out again as the rivet came loose.

Tossing the giant metal spike aside, Jack shot up with a Quik-Heal and, once he had function in his left arm again, harvested the Adam slug from the nearby wailing Little Sister. What once was something to cringe about was now a worthwhile prize for the pain he'd just gone through and Jack regarded the slug for a bit before biting the head off. He didn't jerk the body away from his mouth once that was done like he normally did and instead took a moment to suck some of the Adam from the inside of the slug before he swallowed the head down.

Licking his lips, Jack dropped the rest of the slug into his mouth and chewed it a couple more times than he ever had before, enjoying the taste of Adam coating his mouth and finding the texture more tolerable than ever before. Finally Jack swallowed, still shivering a bit as the slug moved all the way down but finding it a little easier to ignore inside his stomach than usual. Letting out a soft sigh, Jack checked on his arm, testing it when he saw it was healed and picking up his grenade launcher when he found he could move it just fine.

Carrying on the path he'd been following, Jack found two Splicers, one of them the usual kind that used a gun but the other being a Houdini that managed to teleport before Jack could zap them. Standing still, Jack waited until he felt a presence a little ways behind him and to the left and spun around to electrocute the partially visible Splicer. Once it was stunned, Jack caved its head in and then noticed a Gatherer's Garden off to the side.

After purchasing and injecting a bit more of the usual, Jack moved on, finding another Splicer and then seeing a sign for a farmer's market. A security camera trilled nearby and Jack instinctively zapped it before lobbing his wrench at it, bringing it back to himself with Telekinesis once the camera was destroyed. When Jack hesitated on which direction to go from there, Atlas' voice crackled over the radio.

"Rollin' Hills is over yonder, and the bathysphere station is as well." He informed as Jack examined one of the paths as far as he could see.

"Right. Thanks, Papa." Jack said, taking the path and indeed seeing the sign for Rolling Hills after a turn or two. Then a door that indicated it led to Rapture Metro came into view and Jack picked up the pace, glancing with a smile down at his hip when his radio crackled to life again. His smile was short-lived.

"On the surface, I once bought a forest." Ryan started, Jack rolling his eyes and sighing. "The parasites claimed that the land belonged to god, and demanded that I establish a public park there. Why? So the rabble could stand slack-jawed under the canopy and pretend that it was paradise earned." While Ryan droned on, Jack took care of a Splicer and a missile turret, making his way into a lovely area with large trees and even a waterfall. "When congress moved to nationalize my forest, I burnt it to the ground. God did not plant the seeds of this Arcadia, I did."

Frowning down at his hip, Jack was met by a brief burst of static and then silence. "Wow. Petty much?" He mumbled, shaking his head a bit and continuing on until he heard another Big Daddy nearby. Unfortunately this one didn't have a Little Sister with it. Fortunately, one of those holes that the Little Sisters came out of was a few meters away so all Jack needed to do was stand back and wait.

"That's Ryan. Petty personified." Atlas replied, a bit of dry humor in his voice even as he mostly sounded disgusted.

Chuckling softly, Jack drew his grenade launcher but switched to the heat seeking missiles he'd been saving for an emergency when the Big Daddy got its Little Sister. This one was the same kind as the last one and Jack didn't want to get shot by another rivet if he could help it. Taking aim, Jack fired the missile and grinned as the Big Daddy took a moment to recover enough from the blast to roar. By then, Jack had loaded up another and fired it promptly.

That wasn't quite enough to kill the Big Daddy and Jack only had two missiles but he got lucky as the creature's first instinct was to throw a grenade at Jack. He pulled it in so it would get there faster and then threw it back, that being what finally killed the beast. All before it could take aim with the gun it had too.

Huffing happily at his success, Jack did what he had to in order to get his slug and then swallowed it down, savoring it much like he had the last one. Once he was done, Jack got back on track, passing up the lovely area he'd just been in and finding another very similar area around the next corner. He was admiring the lush greenery as he was walking until there was a collective click above him that made Jack pause.

All at once, a green gas started raining down on the area and instantly all of the trees in Arcadia started to wilt and shrivel. Quickly covering his mouth and nose with his arm, Jack looked around and caught sight of the door that would take him to the bathysphere he needed right as it slid shut, a resounding click letting him know it was locked.

"This isn't right." Atlas said from Jack's hip, sounding concerned. "I'm no sort of botanist, but I think Ryan just killed Arcadia. The man's put somethin' foul into the air." There was brief pause and then Atlas' voice suddenly held much more urgency to it. "Bottom of the ocean, boyo. All the oxygen comes from the trees. No trees, no oxygen." Well, there went Jack's plan to just bust the door down and keep moving. He couldn't very well leave Arcadia like this, not when all the oxygen for the rest of Rapture, but more importantly Atlas, was at stake. "Give me a spell to think."

While Atlas considered their options, Jack made his way to the only other door in the area, finding it unlocked. That was good, promising even. "Ryan's woman in Arcadia is an old betty named Langford." Atlas suddenly said while Jack took care of a security camera. "An okay sort, but not above doin' a dirty job for a dollar. If she's still kickin' around, I'm sure she's gonna want to save her trees. After all, she planted the damn things."

"Good thinking, Papa." Jack replied, walking through a door and down a glass tube. Just ahead there was another door but before Jack could even reach it, several televisions around the door lit up with a woman's face.

"My trees! It wasn't you, was it?" The woman, Langford presumably, asked, glaring at Jack for a second before shaking her head. "No. **Ryan.** I think I've got a way to save the trees, it's a genetic vector that-- Oh, look who I'm talking to." She cut off, shaking her head, Jack proving her point when it took him a moment to narrow his eyes in offense at one of the screens. "Could you find a sample of Rosa Gallica for me?" When Jack opened his mouth, a confused look on his face, Langford huffed, cutting him off before he could voice what he was about to. "A rose. Find me a rose. Look in the Grotto, I've got to keep working while there's still time."

Huffing himself as the televisions shut off, Jack left the hall, finding three Splicers waiting for him just outside. He took care of them and then a Houdini in the area where the trees were looking even worse than when he'd left. Choosing a direction he hadn't gone in yet, Jack went up some stairs and passed through another once-green area, finding an unlabeled door. Through the door a pack of Splicers were yelling and collectively beating up a corpse.

After taking a moment to wonder what about Adam made people lose their shit this hard, Jack took care of the three Splicers, lifting the tonic the dead one was curled around and reading the label. Security Evasion. Deciding that sounded useful, Jack injected the tonic while he walked, heading down some stairs and finding his path blocked with quite a few electric tripwires. Sighing softly, Jack moved to start stepping over and ducking under wires but a turret firing at him from across the way made him stumble into three of the wires.

The shock hurt but not nearly as badly as Jack thought it would. In fact, it was almost bordering on pleasant. Taking care of the turret before it could actually manage to hit him, Jack looked at the other tripwires before him and touched one cautiously. The jolt made him gasp in pain and jerk his hand back reflexively but the tingle that lingered in his fingertips and up his arm wasn't actually that bad.

Huffing out a disbelieving laugh, Jack simply swatted away the last two tripwires. That was something else to add to the list of things he should probably be concerned about. Jack didn't have time to dwell as he took out a security camera and another turret though, finally making it all the way down the stairs and paths that led to a pretty little flooded area. In the center, there was a bit of land with a rock formation and some roses growing against the rocks.

Picking a couple of roses just in case, Jack carefully put them in his backpack and then jerked his head up, having just enough time to sling his backpack back on as three Splicers dropped into the water in front of him. Without thinking, Jack shocked one, the current traveling from them to the others and then-- Jack convulsed as the water carried the current to him, an only half-pained moan leaving him as the electricity rocked his body.

Once he got control of himself, Jack covered his mouth in surprise, his skin still tingling and his heart beating irregularly. Shit. Had he really just enjoyed that enough to moan? A surprised laugh from his hip made Jack start. "Well, I was gonna get upset about ya bein' so reckless, but it seems like you're enjoyin' yourself down there, boyo." Atlas said, sounding amused and making Jack flush.

"I wasn't really thinking." Jack muttered apologetically, making his way back up the stairs. "Sorry I made you worry, Papa." There was a Splicer waiting outside the door to the grotto and Jack decided to use Incinerate instead of Electro Bolt to kill them.

"Doesn't seem like you're any worse for the wear from all those shocks." Atlas hummed, now sounding curious. "Think ya mighta given me an idea for somethin' we can try next time we have a moment." His voice was lower when he said that and Jack suddenly became aware of the fact that getting electrocuted had effected him more physically than he realized when his semi gave a light twitch, filling out a bit more.

"Papa." Jack muttered embarrassedly, making his way through the parks before Langford's lab and earning a sultry chuckle from Atlas, which didn't help his problem at all.

"Am I makin' your pretty wee prick hard, lad?" Atlas practically purred, making Jack's face flush darkly and making the Splicer he was about to kill pause to raise an eyebrow at him before Jack's wrench came down on her head.

"Yeah." Jack admitted quietly, jumping as he suddenly found himself outside the lab and Langford came on the televisions.

"You've brought the Rosa Gallica?" She asked, making an impatient sound when Jack nodded and started taking his bag off. "Well, what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? Send it through the pneumo!" She huffed, disappearing from the monitors when Jack did just that, ignoring the pang of annoyance he felt at being rushed. "Yes, this is perfect. _Perfect._ " Langford breathed, coming back onto the screen. "Come on up to my office. I'm letting you in now." She said, the door opening promptly and Jack stepping through it and into her lab. "I think I've got just the thing to put the green back in this forest."

Walking through a couple more doors and down a hall, Jack passed up a couple of turrets and even a security camera, none of which trilled at him. He passed through another door and walked up some stairs, soon finding the lab where Langford was working on whatever she was doing. There was a window that Jack could see her through and the door that led into the lab was locked so Jack just watched as Langford bustled about the lab.

"Julie, we made a business deal, you and I, did we not?" Ryan's voice, more pleasant than Jack had ever heard it, came from within the lab. "Money changed hands-- let me read to you from the agreement. Section Three, Subsection Four--" He started, Julie trying to cut in with a "Mr. Ryan" that was ignored. "Ryan Corp. maintains exclusive rights to the creation, use, and exploitation of the Lazarus Vector." Ryan read, a green smoke suddenly starting to fill the lab. "Ownership is civilization, Julie. Without it, we're back in the swamp."

As Julie began to panic, so did Jack. He was seconds away from sending his fist through the glass, not thinking of his wrench in his panic, as Julie coughed and begged when Atlas' voice made him freeze. "Wait." It was a single word, a simple command, spoken at in a fairly neutral tone at a normal volume, but it froze Jack in place as good as any shout.

"But--" Jack started, head jerking from his hip to the window as Julie began to scrawl something on it, the numbers showing up well now that the window was stained by the green smoke.

"Just wait, boyo." Atlas said calmly, making Jack frown deeply. He slowly lowered his fist, taking a step away from the window as Julie wrote a fourth number and then slid down the glass.

"Papa, I--" Jack hesitated, something deep inside him telling him not to question Atlas. "I could've saved her." He muttered, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, Atlas surely knew best, surely had a good reason, but on the other hand, the _calm_ , almost detached way he'd told Jack to wait had been unnerving. Jack didn't feel right questioning Atlas, it made his stomach twist oddly and gave him a small but persistent feeling of dread in the back of his mind, but that-- that hadn't felt right either. Something was wrong, this was wrong, that had been **wrong**.

"I know you could've, boyo." Atlas replied calmly, making Jack's thoughts stop instantly. "But then you'd've released that gas while it was still pumpin'." Suddenly Atlas' voice wasn't so detached, suddenly it was the warm voice Jack had come to love. "You're tough, but you don't know what breathin' that stuff woulda done to you."

Letting out a slow breath, Jack nodded, his gaze being drawn to the lab where the gas had all but dissipated now. That made sense. Of course that was it. Another little bit of the old Jack chipped away and died as he nodded again, a small smile playing his lips that he hid by looking down. Of course Atlas had just been looking out for him, that's what Atlas did. How could he have been so silly as to think anything else? And what was one more dead body on the pile, anyway? Why had Jack even cared again? No, he couldn't remember. It didn't matter now. _So long as we stick together, we'll be okay. Nothin' else matters._ Yes, that was right, **that** felt right.

"I couldn't risk losin' ya, Jack" Atlas added after Jack was still for a bit, his voice soft and warm enough to melt Jack's heart.

"I-I didn't think about that, Papa." Jack whispered, finally having the presence of mind to actually look at the numbers now running messily down the window. It was still legible: 9457. "I'm sorry." He muttered, not entirely sure why he was apologizing to Atlas. It's not like the older man could read his mind, he didn't know about the blasphemous thoughts he was quickly resolving to never have again.

"It's alright, boyo." Atlas replied gently, making Jack sigh lightly in relief. "Go on, now. The gas's cleared up and the air's only gettin' thinner down there."

"Right." Jack said, quickly walking into the lab and noticing after a brief look-about how a portrait of some roses bulged away from the wall just a little too much. He moved it aside and sure enough, there was a safe behind it. Jack tried the code Julie had provided and found a tape, pressing play on it and getting a move on while he listened to what Julie had to tell him.

"What's the point of being a damn genius if the only ones around to appreciate it are a bunch of spliced-up morons? I've cracked the Vector, or at least I'm ninety-nine percent certain I have. I just need a bud of Rosa Gallica to confirm my analysis. Distilled water, a bit of chlorophyll, and enzymes extracted from Apis Mellifera. That's right, sweethearts: honeybee spit."

While Julie spoke, Jack dealt with the turrets and camera that suddenly weren't so friendly anymore. There were also quite a few Splicers now milling about the lower lab that needed to be dealt with but Jack finished clearing the lab shortly after the tape ended. While Jack made his way out of the lab, Atlas spoke up again.

"Arcadia's a big place, but mostly rural. I'd start at the Farmer's Market to start checkin' things off your shoppin' list."

"Farmer's Market, got it." Jack said, remembering that he'd seen a sign for the Farmer's Market awhile ago and trying to retrace his steps to where it was. His walk took him through a few areas that had once been green and lovely and past a few Splicers that just so happened to have vials of chlorophyll on them. When he thought about it, Jack remembered finding bottles and vials on alot of the Splicers he'd killed in Arcadia, Atlas' words when he'd first arrived to collect things that seemed useful having caused him to keep them.

Taking his pack off, Jack checked his inventory of random items and found he had seven vials of chlorophyll on him and two bottles of distilled water. He wasn't sure exactly how many he needed, so he resolved to just pick up all the vials and bottles he found. Hopefully there'd be notes or something in Julie's lab that would tell him how to mix the Vector exactly.

Slinging his backpack back on, Jack kept moving, finding a bulkhead with a sign that said he was heading in the right direction. Just as he stepped through the threshold, Jack was almost floored by his vision suddenly swimming, causing him to stumble on the ledge of the bulkhead. A vision of his parents' house, his home on the surface, came into view in his mind, flashing a few times before his vision cleared up and Jack swayed on his feet a bit, clutching his forehead. That had definitely been more powerful than the last vision he'd had of his surface life. But why did that keep happening?

"You alright, boyo?" Atlas asked, sounding concerned and effortlessly pulling Jack from his mildly distressing thoughts.

"Yeah." Jack muttered, clearing his throat and shaking his head lightly. "I'm alright, Papa. Just got kinda dizzy all of a sudden." It didn't feel good lying to Atlas, but it felt better than the idea of worrying him with the truth that he was hallucinating.

"The oxygen must be gettin' thinner." Atlas said, making Jack nod slowly. Yeah, that made sense. Lack of oxygen. But-- then why had it happened the last time? The last time-- "If you're sure you're alright, then best to keep movin', lad. The faster you get this Lazarus Vector cooked up, the better."

"Right." Jack breathed, shaking his head again and passing fully through the bulkhead to the Farmer's Market. He was struck immediately by the smell of decaying food, but swallowed against the gagging feeling in the back of his throat and looked around for a promising direction to go in. All of Rapture kind of smelled like rot but it was usually rotting corpses, not food. For some reason, Jack really, **really** didn't want to dwell on why, so he didn't, the smell of rotting corpses bothered him much less than the smell of rotting food.

After taking care of a couple of Splicers who'd noticed him before he could make his decision, Jack decided to take the path that didn't take him past a turret he could hear trilling at some unfortunate Splicer. Unfortunately that path took him past the stalls where the bulk of the rotting food smell seemed to be coming from so Jack double-timed it into the next section, barely stopping to take care of a security camera that started to beep when it caught sight of him.

The next section past the market stalls wasn't even close to as bad which was good because Jack found a red Big Daddy milling around there with its Little Sister in tow. Just as Jack was about to draw his grenade launcher, a Houdini Splicer appeared near the Little Sister and instantly caught the attention, and subsequent wrath, of the Big Daddy. Jack took a couple quiet steps back and watched the fight.

Houdini Splicers were fast but Big Daddies were strong. The Splicer caught the Big Daddy a few times with some fireballs but all it took was one well-aimed rivet from the Big Daddy to do the Splicer in. Picking up where the Splicer had left off, Jack fired at the Big Daddy, wondering idly why they always stopped to roar before attacking. He'd never be fast enough to get a second shot off the way he did if they just didn't roar every time they entered combat. Big Daddies were strong, but they weren't very smart.

Firing a second time just as the Big Daddy started to take aim with its gun, Jack watched the massive beast fall dead. Oh. Well, apparently that Houdini had done more damage than he'd thought. It suddenly occurred to Jack that he'd never actually been hit by a Houdini Splicer thanks to all the teleporting they did and he now thought maybe that was a good thing.

After harvesting the slug from the Little Sister, Jack enjoyed his prize on the go, deciding he didn't really have time to stop and savor it with the oxygen in Arcadia running out slowly but surely. A security camera, some stairs, and a glass hallway later, Jack found the area where he was meant to get the bee spit. He knew because as soon as he got close to the door, he heard screaming coming from inside, the door opening to reveal a Splicer getting mobbed by bees.

As Jack watched, the Splicer fell dead and Jack raised his eyebrows. Must be some pretty strong bees. Jack got to feel exactly how strong they were when the bees suddenly turned on him, swarming around him and stinging him all over when they got close enough. The stings pricked a little, but it wasn't as bad as injecting himself with Plasmids or Tonics or even Quik-Heals. Jack felt a bit of a burning sensation wherever the bees stung him, but the burn was almost pleasant.

The bees lost interest as Jack looted the corpse at his feet and walked away from their hive, seeing a Gatherer's Garden nearby as the last of the bees left him. Instead of getting the usual Tonics he got, Jack bought a couple of new Plasmids, Winter Blast and Sonic Boom. They looked neat even if he wasn't sure he'd ever use them and he honestly felt like he didn't need more Tonics to help keep him alive. If these bees were strong enough to kill a Splicer but didn't give him more than a pinch and a pleasant burn, why should he be worried about what else Rapture could dole out?

In the next room, Jack saw a buttload of beehives, the entire room being swarmed with bees. Okay, well, _that_ was alot more bees than Jack had faced in the other room. Biting his lip, Jack noticed some buttons on the floor and lightly stepped on one. Smoke immediately poured from the ceiling and calmed the bees down and Jack walked into the room slowly, looking around and waiting to get swarmed. When it didn't happen, Jack started searching for the spit he needed.

Since the room was full of bees, it was easy enough to collect bee spit from the hives, but then the bees started to swarm and Jack realized the smoke in the room had dissipated. Bracing himself, Jack got swarmed almost instantly but decided it didn't hurt bad enough for him to stop what he was doing and go back to the buttons. When he started to get light-headed, Jack shot up with a Quik-Heal and kept working, the feeling going away quickly enough.

In about ten minutes, and maybe a hundred or so stings later, Jack had all the bee spit he dared to collect from the room and left quickly. As soon as he was out in the glass hall again, Jack looked himself over and realized the bees hadn't left stingers behind like surface bees did. That would explain why they'd been able to sting him so many damn times. He looked like he had freckles thanks to all the tiny blood spots all over his body.

Deciding it better to be safe than sorry, Jack shot up with another Quik-Heal and waited a moment for the red dots to start disappearing before moving on. "Sure took those stings like a champ, boyo." Atlas mentioned, his tone mostly casual but just a hint too mischievous for Jack's liking. Well, that was a damn lie, Jack liked it very much, but that tone sounded like it spelled trouble for his ability to walk without chafing a very delicate part of himself. "Thinkin' maybe ya didn't particularly mind 'em. Thinkin' _maybe_ you enjoyed yourself in there." Atlas' voice lowered on the first sentence and was downright seductive on the second, making Jack flush and duck his head to try and hide it.

"It-- maybe tingled a little. Maybe not in a bad way." Jack admitted, biting his lip as Atlas let out a chuckle that went straight to his dick, taking Lil' Jack from interested to raging with one sound. He was inside a winery now, searching the area for water. He'd found two bottles on some corpses near the entrance so it felt promising.

"Thought so." Atlas practically purred, making Jack shiver lightly. "Had I known you were such a masochist, I mighta been a little more adventurous durin' our meetin' in my bedroom." Atlas' voice rolled and rumbled just right when he spoke so lowly, the husky tone of his voice crackling over the radio distracting Jack terribly from his search.

" **I** didn't even know." Jack admitted softly, shivering again as Atlas let out a hum that sounded suspiciously sensual. "Papa, you're making it so hard to keep moving." He whined softly, getting another silky chuckle from Atlas but not having the time to enjoy it properly as he suddenly found himself in the crosshairs of a turret **and** a security camera. The camera was more pressing so he took care of it first, not worrying too badly about the pelting he took from the turret before he could focus on it.

"Oh, aye?" Atlas asked coyly, a grin practically audible in his voice. "Bet that's not the only thing I'm makin' hard."

"Fuck, Papa." Jack practically whimpered, ducking into a fairly safe-looking supply closet and leaning heavily against a wall. "I want you so bad right now."

"Tell me what you want, boyo." Atlas breathed, making Jack shiver and bite his lip.

"Shouldn't we--" Jack started, his voice catching when he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled slowly along its track, so loud and clear that he was sure Atlas must have his radio pointed directly at his crotch. Then there was the shuffling of fabric and Jack bit his lip as he imagined Atlas freeing his cock and gripping it in one of his big, strong hands.

"Not gonna make me take care of this all by my lonesome, are ya, boyo?" Atlas asked, the radio close to his mouth again if his clear, seductive voice coming through nice and loud was any indication.

Moaning quietly, Jack's hips jerked involuntarily and he pressed a hand firmly to his straining dick, starting to rub himself a bit through the fabric of his trousers. "No, Papa." He said softly, pulling the radio close to his face with his free hand so Atlas could hear him loud and clear.

"Then tell me what you want me to do to you so badly." Atlas prompted, his voice a bit breathy like he'd already gotten started.

Just the thought of Atlas leisurely stroking his cock at his desk was enough to make Jack forget all about the dwindling oxygen supply in Arcadia. "I want you to grab me by the hair, force me to my knees, and make me choke on your cock until I'm swallowing down your load." He said slowly, not entirely sure he was doing this right until Atlas moaned lowly at his words, making Jack's hips jerk again. Okay, yeah, he could do this, he could definitely do this. "I'd swallow every drop, Papa. I'd swallow every drop and thank you for using me, thank you for the gift of your cum." Atlas moaned again and Jack felt like he might break his zipper if his dick got any harder.

"That's right, boyo." Atlas groaned, his tone going right to Jack's dick which he quickly freed lest an impression of his zipper become permanently printed on it from how hard they were pressing on eachother. "I'm gonna take my sweet time fuckin' that dirty mouth o' yours when we meet again."

Moaning softly at the thought, Jack laid his head against the wall, slowly stroking himself. "Oh, Papa, I want that so bad. I wanna hear your sexy, perfect voice telling me what a little whore I am for taking your cock so eagerly while I choke on it." 

"Fuck, boyo, that's it. Keep goin'." Atlas groaned, making Jack's dick jerk hard as he imagined how beautiful Atlas must look, cock in his hand, jerking himself to the things he was saying, looking completely undone at his desk.

"The thought of you finishing in my mouth and slapping me like I'm some two-bit whore just cuz you know you can." Jack continued, his hand moving faster and breath becoming heavier, not sure where all this was coming from but knowing it was working for both of them. "And I'd love it. I'd love whatever you did to me, Papa. Fuck my face, slap me, call me every filthy name you can think of, I'd take it and thank you for it." He practically moaned, shuddering as Atlas moaned loudly, making Jack feel better and better about sharing what he'd be willing, what he'd **love** to take from him. Jack had never thought of himself as a masochist, but Rapture hadn't stopped warping his view of himself since he'd arrived and apparently Atlas was very into it, so fuck it, he was a masochist now.

"And the thought of your thick, perfect cock just wrecking my ass." Jack said, a slow, lewd, only slightly exaggerated moan leaving him as he tried to think of things someone who liked to be called perfect would like hearing. "Fuck, Papa. I'd beg you until my throat was raw just to feel that perfect cock tear me up inside. I'd kiss your boots and grovel at your feet for hours to feel you inside me again." Jack's breath hitched and he moaned as he suddenly spilled into his fist when Atlas made the most erotic sound Jack had ever heard, his breathing tipping Jack off that he'd cum as well. Apparently, he'd done good at figuring out what Atlas would like.

"Goddamn, boyo." Atlas huffed, voice still thick with arousal but also quite satisfied. "You wouldn't believe the mess I have to clean up now. Had no idea ya were so damn dirty."

Smiling proudly, Jack wiped his hand off on some nearby napkins, taking a moment to clean himself up before tucking himself away. "Neither did I." He admitted, smiling even more at the genuinely amused chuckle that earned him. "Thinking about you just makes me so flustered. I'd let you do anything to me, Papa."

Grunting, Atlas' voice came out a little rougher. "You're gonna make me hard again, lad. I'm not as young as I used to be, ya might just end up killin' me."

Biting his lip to stifle a giggle, Jack finally stood, clipping his radio back into place. "Okay, I'll behave." He said softly, walking down some stairs and taking care of some Splicers he was surprised hadn't heard anything and come upstairs to investigate.

"Please do." Ryan grumbled after a brief burst of static. "At this point, I think I welcome death."

Eyes widening, Jack covered his mouth in horror. "I forgot he can hear us." He whispered, covering his face as Atlas snorted and started laughing. "It's not funny!" Jack insisted, uncovering his eyes but keeping his mouth covered, his entire face flushed a deep shade of red in embarrassment. Atlas only laughed harder and the sound of it was making it hard for Jack to stay upset.

"Serves 'im right for eavesdroppin'!" Atlas said in between laughs, eventually calming down as Jack quickly collected a few more water bottles. "Now, if you think you have enough of everythin', head back to Langford's lab and put the whole witches brew together. We need t'get this fog cleared up."

"Yes, Papa." Jack mumbled, still embarrassed but knowing he needed to keep moving. He'd taken long enough what with the little break he'd taken with Atlas, especially if that hallucination earlier really had been caused by a lack of oxygen. The moment Jack reached the part of the Farmer's Market with all the rotting food, he knew something was off. It was too quiet.

All lingering embarrassment suddenly gone, Jack tuned into his surroundings and found his instincts reliable as ever as he was ambushed by three Houdini Splicers at once. He froze two at once with Winter Blast and then used the same Plasmid to counter the fireball the third sent his way. Before he could freeze that one, she vanished and he turned his attention to the two frozen ones. One of them got his wrench, shattering into a hundred little pieces but the other thawed out and vanished just as he was turning to hit him.

Jack went still again and electrocuted the one that appeared behind him first, freezing her right after and hitting her with his wrench. She also shattered and Jack wondered why he hadn't bought Winter Blast sooner. Before Jack could locate the third Houdini, he was launching a fireball at Jack which hit him in the back, causing Jack to cry out in pain and sending him sprawling. Well, that had hurt quite alot. It was definitely good he didn't get hit by those often.

Quickly rolling over, Jack froze the Houdini just as it was jumping at him and caught him, using his momentum to bring him down hard on the floor beside himself, turning his face away to avoid getting cut by the spray of Splicer shards that he became once he hit the floor. Huffing, Jack took his shirt off and examined the giant burnt hole in the back. "Well, shit." He muttered, tossing the shirt aside and shooting up with a Quik-Heal before standing and continuing on his way. It probably wasn't safe running around shirtless, but it didn't feel like it made that big of a difference considering he'd only been wearing thin undershirts for most of his time in Rapture anyway.

Finally Jack made it out of the Farmer's Market and back into the main part of Arcadia. He was right in the middle of shooting up with an Eve syringe when an alarm started blaring overhead. Frowning deeply, Jack looked around and then swore under his breath when he spotted a horde of flying turrets coming his way. Thinking fast, Jack grabbed a nearby boulder with Telekinesis and started zapping the bots out of the sky with Electro Bolt, using the boulder to smash the downed ones as he did.

It took extra effort to lift the large rock with only one hand, but Jack managed, holding his ground against the wave of bots and even a few Splicers. He was sweating and breathing a bit harder once the alarm stopped blaring and took a moment to shoot up with another Eve and Quik-Heal, having taken quite alot of machine gun fire and used up most of his Eve. Luckily he still had plenty of Eve hypos and more than enough med-kits so he kept moving, kicking bots out of the way as he made his way back into the wilting greenery of Arcadia.

Quite a bit of walking and a few Splicers later and Jack found himself back in Julie's lab. The U-Invent machine there did indeed have instructions for how exactly to mix the Lazarus Vector and Jack realized he had more than enough supplies. As Jack mixed the Vector, he resolved to store the extra components in the safe in Julie's lab just in case it was ever needed again. The machine dinged lightly after a moment of mixing the ingredients Jack had put in and a large bottle of liquid came out of the dispensary.

"Atta boy, Jack." Atlas said from his hip, making Jack smile as he took the Vector from the dispensary. "Now just drop the Vector into a gadget called the Central Misting Control and we'll be cookin' with gas."

Mouthing "cookin' with gas" to himself and trying not to get caught up on how cute Atlas was, Jack hurried to the lab and opened the bottle containing the Vector. He turned it upside down onto the part of the machine labeled "canister" and it clicked into place, staying in place even when Jack let it go. Pressing the start button, Jack cringed as the machine started up, taking a step away from the noisy contraption.

"Ah, listen to that damn thing gurgle and crank." Atlas said, Jack imagining their expressions of discomfort were about the same. "How long is it gonna take?"

Looking around Jack spotted a display on the machine and sighed deeply. "Twenty minutes according to this screen." He replied, stepping away from the noisy machine to put the excess supplies in the safe like he'd planned.

"Suppose we'll just have to settle in and--" Atlas stopped talking with a groan and Jack joined him in that groan as Ryan suddenly spoke up from the speakers in the lab.

"It seems Julie's death didn't provide a clear enough lesson to you." He paused briefly, apparently still as determined as ever to be as dramatic as possible. "Perhaps _this_ will suffice."

After a minute of nothing, Jack hummed softly. "Well, that was anti-climactic." He muttered, getting a light chuckle from Atlas."

"Ryan's got your number now. No doubt he'll be sendin' company." Atlas said, not sounding even a little concerned. "Probably best to head back to the lab entrance and seal her up. Might be the only way to keep the Splicers out."

"What's the fun in keeping them out?" Jack asked quietly, surprising himself and Atlas as well if the decidedly surprised-sounding laugh he got for that was any indication.

"Well, in that case, take 'em on somewhere with a camera. Been enjoyin' watchin' you run around without a shirt on." Atlas said, his tone just short of lecherous.

Flushing lightly, Jack smiled to himself and decided to damn the potential consequences. Walking to the biggest room in the lab, the one with the most cameras, Jack took out his meat hooks and waited. If Atlas wanted a show, who was he to deny him a show? He'd never done anything like this, though, so he hoped some of those random, moderately concerning, instincts that had been carrying him so far would flare up once he got started.

As Jack heard the first Splicers start to enter the lab, he took a deep breath and let it out slow. It was time. Unable to help it, Jack smiled a little at how nervous he was. He wasn't worried about getting hurt while fighting a way he never had before, like a sane person would be, he was worried about whether or not he'd look good while doing it. It was a funny thought and made him feel conceited out of context. Jack wasn't conceited though, this was for Atlas, not himself.

Once Splicers started pouring into the lab from the wide-open entrance, Jack got to work. He used the agility he already knew he had to avoid getting shot any more than he usually would despite the close-combat and the strength he was still learning how to control to tear every Splicer that entered the lab apart. The hooks definitely helped in that regard and Jack found he was having fun despite himself, ripping into Splicers and making quite the mess of both himself and the lab-turned-battlefield.

About a dozen Splicers later, Jack was spattered all over in blood and it was almost hard to walk on the lab floor due to all the blood and occasional organ making it slippery. You'd think, considering the city was being built underwater, Ryan would've went with floors that didn't get slippery when wet, but Jack supposed Ryan had figured Rapture wouldn't leak. It seemed like the sort of pompous thing he'd believe, that because Rapture was _his_ city it would be immune to decay and accidents.

The chattering of more Splicers coming from the lab entrance drew Jack's attention from his thoughts and he got his hooks ready, more confident in his abilities than before despite the new slipping hazard. When the second wave of Splicers arrived, there was a brief hesitation on a few of their parts. Apparently some of them were still sane enough to see the carnage around the room and think twice about running at the man who'd most likely caused it.

Alas, all thoughts, even second thoughts, with Splicers were fleeting and even the ones with reservations were charging at Jack soon enough. Jack for his part learned quickly that if he didn't lift his feet to move, it made him feel less likely to slip. With that in mind, Jack spent the second wave sliding through the blood on the floor while tearing Splicers apart, finding the new slip'n'slide method even more fun than the last.

The second wave, despite still being about a dozen Splicers strong, went even faster than the first, likely because Jack was more comfortable with how he was fighting now. Not to mention he was much faster sliding across the floor than he had been with steadier footing. All in all, by the time the second wave of Splicers ended, Jack was covered in blood instead of simply spattered and his little smile had grown into something that really should've given him pause.

There was no time to linger on disturbing thoughts, though, not when his radio crackled and Atlas' low voice came through. "Looks like the Vector's about halfway there, boyo. Keep your hand on the throttle." There was brief pause. "You're doin' amazin', by the by. I've never seen anyone look so incredible while killin'."

Flushing lightly at the praise, Jack shot the nearest camera a pleased little smile. "Thanks, Papa. I'm glad you're enjoying the show." Before anymore words could be exchanged, Jack's head snapped to the side as he heard more Splicers arriving. This wave sounded much bigger than the last two. Letting out another deep breath, Jack readied himself, suddenly getting an idea as the first few Splicers in the wave started to trickle into the room.

Jack's arms up to his elbows quickly morphed so they were covered in the magma cracks of Incinerate and as he fought, Jack began to bleed a steady flow of heat into his hooks. Sure enough, the hooks slowly started to get hotter. Jack could feel the heat but it didn't burn, not him, anyway. He bled heat into the hooks until they started to glow and then stopped, keeping Incinerate in both hands so he wouldn't burn himself though.

Now that the hooks were heated, they were carving through the Splicers that entered the room even more easily and the last Splicer fell just as a ding sounded from elsewhere in the lab. "Perfect timin'." Atlas commented, Jack nodding his agreement and making his way back to the other side of the lab as quickly as he could. He might've slipped a couple of times from all the blood caking the bottoms of his shoes, but he made it regardless and flipped the switch, looking out the window in the lab eagerly and grinning broadly as a mist started raining from the ceiling, instantly perking up the trees of Arcadia.

"Well done, lad." Atlas praised excitedly, sounding so pleased that Jack couldn't help but preen a bit. "Made quite a mess of yourself, though, didn't ya?" He added, a chuckle in his voice. Jack looked down at himself and was shocked by the amount of blood and other assorted viscera he was now soaked in.

"I sure did." He admitted sheepishly, trying halfheartedly to wipe at some of the blood on his chest before quickly giving up and laughing softly. "Guess I got a little carried away."

"Oh, I'd say so." Atlas said, still sounding amused before his voice dropped considerably, making Jack shiver lightly. "What a treat it was to watch, though."

"Yeah?" Jack asked shyly, smiling more when Atlas hummed an affirmative.

"But, as much as I like watchin' ya fight topless and as good as you look covered in blood, maybe we oughta get ya cleaned up." Atlas said, a sigh in his voice. "I'll send you some clothes through the pneumo at the lab entrance." There was some shuffling as Jack started making his way to the pneumo tube in question and then Atlas was back. "Bet one of those waterfalls you were admirin' earlier would make a fine place to rinse all that blood off."

Blushing slightly at the fact that Atlas had noticed that, Jack nodded, cleaning off his hands as best he could by creating a ball of ice with Winter Blast, melting it with Incinerate, and washing his hands off with the resulting water. It worked out well enough, getting his hands clean enough that when he fished his old clothes from the pneumo tube, they didn't get all bloody. "Thanks, Papa. I'll make it quick, promise."

"Plenty of time, boyo, plenty of time." Atlas replied, making Jack smile on his way to the waterfall. "Take a deep breath and enjoy it while you can cuz we're one stop away from Ryan's house. Then it's time for blood."

Smile turning into a grin at Atlas' somewhat dark, almost hungry tone, Jack set his clothes on the grass and, after a quick check around just to make sure there weren't any living Splicers in the immediate area, got naked. After dipping a hand in the water to check the temperature, Jack hit the water with a quick blast from Incinerate and then got in, letting out a light sigh. Despite what Atlas had said, Jack washed off as quick as he could, not wanting to get ambushed by Splicers even if he did have plenty of time.

While he bathed, Jack's mind wandered to how dark Atlas was. He hadn't seemed quite so-- bloodthirsty before their "meeting" in his hideout, but Jack had a feeling that was because he wasn't sure how Jack would react. As Jack let the darkness he hadn't known he had show, maybe it had made Atlas comfortable enough to show his true colors as well. He was okay with that; it was good to know he wasn't scaring Atlas off.

Getting out of the pool of water, Jack quickly dried off with a few careful blasts of Incinerate and got dressed in his clean clothes. He looked at the sweater in his hands for a bit before stuffing it into his backpack and fishing out the ripped up remains of the last shirt he'd had. With the remains of the last shirt, Jack cleaned the blood off his gear and shoes and then frowned down at the blood-soaked clothes laying near the waterfall. What to do with those now?

"Just leave 'em, boyo." Atlas said, as though he could read Jack's mind. "Don't think any amount of washin'll get the blood out of 'em."

"Good point." Jack said, giving a nod and slinging his gear back on before he moved out, breathing a sigh of relief as the door to the metro opened. The calm feeling of being back on track was short lived as Ryan's voice came over his radio.

"Why are you so resistant to the traditional methods of separating a man from his soul?" Ryan asked with a bit of frustration in his voice, making Jack roll his eyes as he stopped at a bench to pick up a tape recorder, fully intending to play it over whatever speech Ryan had planned for him. "I suppose that roach Atlas believes he's found quite the weapon in you." Jack's plans were thwarted as he accidentally crushed the recorder, the many pieces it was now in tumbling to the floor between his clenched fingers as his head slowly turned to his hip. "No matter, I'll exterminate the both of you in due time. I just need to find the proper poison."

Before Jack could respond, the line blurred with static and Jack knew Ryan still wasn't planning on exchanging words with him. He could still hear Jack, though. When Jack thought about it, though, he didn't have anything to say to Ryan. Nothing he hadn't already said. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slow, Jack kept moving, getting into the bathysphere parked at the dock and sealing it up before pulling the lever. Death was going to be a mercy for Ryan compared to what Jack would do with him, but if death was what Atlas thought Ryan deserved, that was enough for Jack.

Feeling a headache starting to come on, Jack laid back on the seats, throwing an arm over his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing so he wouldn't focus on his thoughts. When Jack's radio crackled, he almost ripped it off his hip and threw out the bathysphere window. His supreme impulse control was rewarded by the voice on the other end belonging to Atlas.

"You alright, boyo?" He asked softly, the concerned tone helping to ease some of Jack's headache. "Don't think I've ever seen ya so angry."

"I've never wanted someone to suffer as badly as I want _him_ to." Jack muttered, having moved his radio to his chest so Atlas could hear him. "It's not _bothering_ me, not-- morally, but it's hard to deal with. I can't remember ever feeling **anything** as strongly as I've felt **everything** down here."

A light hum from Atlas made Jack's heartbeat calm down a little. "Hold on a tick, boyo." He said, Jack hearing some clicks and sparks from Atlas' end before he spoke up again, more quietly this time, almost uncertainly. "What would you say to not killin' Ryan off right away?" He asked, Jack's heart skipping a beat at the question.

"I-- what do you mean?" Jack practically whispered back, his head throbbing anew though he tried to ignore it and focus on Atlas.

"Well, if you kill someone, you only make 'em suffer once, don'tcha?" Atlas said slowly, still sounding uncertain. "You keep 'em around for awhile and suddenly you can make 'em suffer whenever the mood strikes you."

A heavy silence came down after that, Jack not quite able to believe what he was hearing. "Are you-- Papa, are you suggesting we keep Ryan around to torture him?" He asked quietly, heart thumping hard for an entirely different reason than before. There was no way, he had to be misunderstanding Atlas. That had to be it. Atlas would laugh at the absurdity and Jack would laugh too and Atlas would clarify himself with something that made sense, something less-- well, less exactly what Jack had been thinking just moments ago.

Sure enough, Atlas laughed, but it was a nervous sound and it made Jack sit up too quickly for his still-throbbing head. "Ah, just jokin', boyo. Poor taste?" He asked nervously, Jack having to war with himself real quick before he could respond. On the one hand, that made more sense than Atlas having been serious, and he of course wanted to trust his Papa wasn't lying to him, but Atlas had sounded serious. Serious and nervous.

"No you weren't." Jack whispered into the radio, rubbing his forehead a little in a vain attempt to dispel his headache. "Papa, I--" He paused, swallowing hard and running through several different ways he could respond before deciding to just get it out there. "I would really like that. I-I was just thinking that Ryan deserves worse than death. Are-- you weren't joking, were you?" There was a deep sigh of relief on the other end of the radio that made Jack relax, some of the throbbing in his temples lessening.

"No, I wasn't." Atlas admitted lowly, laughing again, this time in relief. "God, lad, you scared me. Thought for sure you were gonna-- well, that isn't important." He sighed, sounding earnest when he started talking again. "You're really into it then, boyo? Not just agreein' to make me happy or anythin' like that?"

"I'm into it, I swear." Jack said, his own tone earnest now. "I didn't even think to bring it up to you, I didn't think you would-- oh, Papa, I love you so much. You're the most perfect man I've ever met, you know that?" He babbled out, clutching the radio close and wishing stronger than ever before that he could kiss Atlas.

"I love you too, lad." Atlas said sincerely, making Jack's heart melt. "Can't believe how lucky I am."

Suddenly the warm feelings Jack was bathing in turned to ice. "Wait, can't Ryan hear us? Won't he know what we're up to?" He asked, his worry plain in his voice.

"I hacked the radio so he can't hear us. He'll figure it out eventually and hack back in, but until then, we're alone." Atlas explained, making Jack slump in relief. "Now, you're almost to Fort Frolic and once you're out of that metal bubble, he'll probably realize what I've done, so we don't have long. Keep to it like nothin's changed once you're out, we don't wanna tip 'im off to what the new plan is."

"Right. I can do that." Jack assured, straightening up again and smiling at the small camera above the door.

"That's a good lad." Atlas praised, a smile in his voice. "Game face on now, remember how angry ya were when you got in that 'sphere."

Nodding, Jack took a breath and went easily back to looking like he was pissed. It was only easy because he really was still quite angry at Ryan for insulting his Papa, but now there was a much darker undercurrent there as well. A certain glee that should be very concerning but that Jack welcomed. He was officially sick to death of fighting the darkness, of fighting the Jack that Rapture was forming him into. Surface Jack would've never entertained the idea of torturing someone but surface Jack died in a fiery plane crash, drowned with all those other poor souls in the unforgiving abyss of the ocean.

When the bathysphere surfaced and Jack exited, he exited with a new lightness in his heart. It was time to get to know himself, to test the limits of what he knew he could do and learn what else he was hiding from himself. It didn't matter _how_ he could do the things he could do, just that he could and it was time to unleash the beast and stop pulling his swings when he fought. In short, it was time to fully embrace the Jack that was going to bring all of Rapture and Andrew fucking Ryan to their knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so long! Fuck! AND THE FONTAINE POV ALWAYS COMES OUT LONGER! kill me...
> 
> No, but, on the real, this flaming trash pile is only gonna get worse now that I've had the horrible idea to keep Ryan alive. Also, I played BioShock 2 recently and I'm not saying I'd die for Sinclair, but he was certainly a worthy replacement for my Fontaine and I'd die for him. He deserved better than he got... Like an overly-protective genetically modified assassin boyfriend...
> 
> That was a warning. Or a spoiler. Depends on if you're angry or not... Okay, it's almost one in the morning and I still have a chapter to edit, bye!


	8. Arcadia Fontaine PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ya know the drill at this point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Frank Fontaine, Andrew Ryan, Julie Langford
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Masochism, Size Kink, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Murder, Sadism, Non-Explicit Child Murder, Drug Use, Possessive Behaviour, Idolatry, Bee Stings, Blood and Gore, Mild Feminization, Smoking, Drinking

After about half an hour of walking, Jack made it to the bulkhead to Arcadia. By then, Fontaine's people had settled enough to work without needing micromanaging so he was able to keep his full attention on Jack. The kid had barely walked through the damn door to Arcadia when Fontaine heard his radio crackle from his own end, cringing a bit since he knew it wasn't him. Sure enough, it was fucking Ryan. Man just didn't know how to keep his fucking mouth shut. Wasn't like the kid wasn't already gonna kill him, did he really need to keep antagonizing him? Put the shovel down, man! Stop digging!

Then again, it was sure something seeing how angry Jack got while Ryan left him with some vague shit he had no way of knowing the kid wasn't going to take seriously. Fontaine knew an intentionally ominous threat when he heard one, but Jack-- well, Jack wasn't Fontaine. Assuming he even understood he was being threatened, which was to assume alot, that threat was not nearly straightforward enough to sound like anything more than Ryan rambling on without actually **saying** anything.

"Guess you didn't scare 'im off after all." Fontaine sighed, injecting something close enough to sympathy into his tone. And he did feel a little bad for the kid, he supposed. After all, Jack wouldn't be able to scratch that itch for some time yet. He still needed to get through Cohen in Fort Frolic and then get through Hephaestus when Ryan inevitably kept Jack from getting to his office the easy way. Add in some time for whatever shit Ryan would almost certainly throw his way to slow him down, Jack was looking at _at least_ another few hours of stewing.

"I guess not." Jack muttered, sounding miffed as he broke a lock off a door with his bare-fucking-hands. Snapped the thick metal chain like it was a fucking matchstick. Fontaine had to try and sound like he wasn't trying to figure out how to orchestrate one last meeting before everything potentially went to shit when he spoke up again.

"You get to the bathysphere in Rollin' Hills and that'll get you one step closer t'the devil himself." That seemed to shift the fire inside Jack to under him and he picked up the pace with a quick "got it". The moment the kid saw the Tea Gardens of Arcadia, he let out a little gasp that made Fontaine smile. He'd always liked Arcadia too, it was relaxing if you could catch it empty enough and he'd spent many off-hours strolling through the grass to soothe a day of stress. If everything went alright with Ryan and the big reveal and all that, he'd be sure to get Jack on his back under the canopy at some point.

Something in the next area seemed to put Jack on edge and Fontaine focused from his thoughts, not hearing anything but realizing why Jack was on edge when he saw flower petals floating down to the ground. Then he heard someone calling for help from behind Jack and he sighed lightly. "Houdini Splicers." Fontaine whispered into the radio, grinning to himself as he made Jack jump but keeping his amusement carefully from his voice. "They can teleport. Seems this one's tryin' to lure you into a trap."

"Oh, they can teleport now. That's just great." Jack mumbled sarcastically, walking quickly up the stairs the Splicer had just disappeared on. Fontaine chuckled softly at Jack's annoyance and covered his mouth to keep from laughing louder when the Splicer yelled "hello, beautiful" behind Jack, scaring the shit out of the kid if the way he started mumbling angrily at the rose petals and stomping up the stairs was any indication.

Finally Jack managed to pin the Splicer with lightning when he popped up behind Jack and then caved his head in. Another Splicer got the same treatment and then Jack was moving on. Fontaine took the ensuing relative peace to light up a smoke and pour himself a fresh glass of gin, having put the whiskey away once the rescue mission was over. He only needed the hard sauce during stressful times, couldn't risk getting shit-faced while he was on the clock, as it were.

Not that he'd gotten drunk in quite a long time. Fontaine drank like a fish, pretty much always had, so it took a somewhat worrying amount to work up a proper buzz anymore. Maybe he had a problem. Quickly deciding he didn't have time to decide if he was an alcoholic or not, Fontaine focused on the monitors in front of him and quickly worked out where Jack was as he killed yet another Splicer.

Granted he'd been made for it, but the kid was a fuckin' natural. He didn't even blink anymore. Not when the crunch of skull giving under metal was the only sound in the room, not when his face got speckled with blood and the occasional bit of brain, not when they actually got a chance to scream before he put them down. In fact, and maybe this was just wishful thinking on Fontaine's part, Jack almost looked like he was having fun most of the time. Like he was right on the verge of a pleasant little smile.

Sure, sometimes he did that creepy grin thing, but that was different. Fontaine knew **that** feeling, that was bloodlust. What Jack's expression betrayed was something alot more casual, like the lives he took didn't mean anything more than mild entertainment. Sighing softly, Fontaine leaned back in his chair. Again, that might've just been wishful thinking. He'd have to try and figure out how to interrogate the kid about it, see if he was really degrading as much as it seemed he was. See if he'd really gotten Jack to go from fretting over being a dealer of death to enjoying it like he himself enjoyed cigarettes with those five little words he'd put in the kid's ear.

The sound of stomping footsteps made Fontaine focus again and he grinned around his cigarette. Jack was about to have his first encounter with a "Rosie" model Big Daddy. This would be interesting. Jack got off the first two hits with his grenade launcher and the Rosie decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. The kid was quick, though, so the Rosie ate its own proximity mine. Then Jack screamed in pain and Fontaine almost dropped his cigarette. Fuck, he'd missed that sound.

Quickly removing his cigarette from his mouth so he didn't fuck up the filter from biting it, Fontaine leaned in a little closer. Jack threw aside his grenade launcher, his left arm looking like it was out of commission now, and seemed to be waiting for something. The kid avoided a couple more rivets, which was really a shame, and then caught the explosive the Rosie threw at him, throwing it back and finally killing the hulking beast. Before dealing with the Little Sister, Jack removed the rivet from his arm, screaming again as he did, Fontaine's eyelids fluttering a bit from the sound.

Jack then shot up with a Quik-Heal and once he could move his arm, finally went about harvesting the wailing brat at his feet. It was a relief to not have to listen to her shrill voice crackling over the radio but then the worst part came. After last time, Fontaine found he couldn't look away and watched in rapt horror and disgust as Jack very clearly enjoyed the Adam slug he'd once had to choke down.

Shuddering in revulsion, Fontaine knocked back the rest of his drink, which was still well more than half the glass, in two hard swallows and took a long drag of his cigarette, trying to wash a phantom taste from his mouth. He'd never tried an Adam slug, of course, but that didn't stop his body from conjuring up a foul taste in the back of his throat as he watched the lump go down Jack's throat. The kid was obviously getting used to eating the slugs, but Fontaine didn't think he'd ever get used to watching it.

Luckily Fontaine had plenty of time to get over this most recent bit of nausea as Jack killed Splicers and perused a Gatherer's Garden machine. He was fully over it and ready to slip back into being helpful by the time Jack came to a diverging path and looked uncertain. "Rollin' Hills is over yonder, and the bathysphere station is as well." Fontaine informed as Jack examined the correct path.

"Right. Thanks, Papa." Jack said, taking the indicated path and smiling a bit when his radio crackled. Fontaine was caught between cringing and laughing as the smile instantly dropped from Jack's face. Couldn't Ryan _see_ the kid? Was he really so unintimidated by Jack's obvious hatred for him? Fontaine wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that frown. Not after everything he'd seen the kid do. No fucking thank you. It was like Ryan _wanted_ his death to be as horrible as possible.

"On the surface, I once bought a forest. The parasites claimed that the land belonged to god, and demanded that I establish a public park there. Why? So the rabble could stand slack-jawed under the canopy and pretend that it was paradise earned." While Ryan droned on, Jack took care of a Splicer and a missile turret, making his way into one of the big areas of Rolling Hills and Fontaine idly listened, wondering what the point of _this_ rant was going to be. "When congress moved to nationalize my forest, I burnt it to the ground. God did not plant the seeds of this Arcadia, I did."

"Wow. Petty much?" Jack mumbled after Ryan was quiet for a bit, apparently having finished.

Even as he huffed in amusement, Fontaine was careful to temper his amused tone with a generous helping of disgust when he replied. "That's Ryan. Petty personified." In truth, Fontaine had been dealing with exactly that for literal years and while Ryan was annoying, sure, that was about the extent of it. He'd never really found Ryan's twisted way of doing things _disgusting_ , after all, just-- sloppy. Yeah, sloppy. You couldn't dangle freedom in front of people only to string them up when they broke rules that weren't supposed to exist. You either had to be more sneaky about it or nix the whole freedom spiel entirely. Ryan, though, Ryan had wanted to have his cake and fuck it too.

Just as well, Fontaine got a chuckle out of Jack and then got to watch the kid take out another Rosie. He did much better this time around, using missiles instead of grenades and killing the beast before it could take aim with its rivet gun. Fontaine pointedly went to refill his glass and light up a fresh smoke when Jack went for the Little Sister, refusing to watch him delight in the wriggling monstrosity this time around.

A loud click coming from the radio made Fontaine look at the monitors and his eyes widened when a mist started coming from the sprinklers littering the roof of Arcadia. Jack had the good sense to cover his mouth and nose as the trees of Arcadia wilted and Fontaine swore under his breath. Ryan was just delaying the inevitable! And doing it in the most petty way possible, of course! Fontaine could just have Jack keep moving, that locked bulkhead didn't mean shit to Jack's inhuman strength if Fontaine just convinced him to really let rip on it, but he couldn't very well let Arcadia die. **Annoying.** Fucking Ryan.

"This isn't right." Fontaine said, shifting his aggravation over to concern right before he opened his mouth. "I'm no sort of botanist, but I think Ryan just killed Arcadia. The man's put somethin' foul into the air." Jack just stood there and Fontaine tried not to sound annoyed as he carried on, getting the distinct feeling the kid wasn't quite grasping the situation they were in. "Bottom of the ocean, boyo. All the oxygen comes from the trees. No trees, no oxygen." **That** seemed to click in Jack's brain and Fontaine rolled his eyes, spinning around in his chair to get at his filing cabinets. "Give me a spell to think."

As he sifted through files, looking for something that stood out to the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, Fontaine heard Jack moving across the now-crunchy grass of Rolling Hills. There! That name! Quickly pulling the file, Fontaine spun back around to the desk. "Ryan's woman in Arcadia is an old betty named Langford." He started, flipping through the file while he spoke. "An okay sort, but not above doin' a dirty job for a dollar. If she's still kickin' around, I'm sure she's gonna want to save her trees. After all, she planted the damn things."

"Good thinking, Papa." Jack replied, Fontaine resisting the strong urge to reply with an "I know" and focusing on finding the article he was looking for instead while Jack moved. He found the lab surprisingly quickly, having been apparently going in the right direction when he'd started to, seemingly aimlessly, wander. It occurred to Fontaine suddenly that maybe those little psychic moments that broke through Jack's usual adorable idiot routine were repressed memories from before his wipe. He did know alot about Rapture, after all, he just didn't know he knew it. It would explain alot. The reactions he had to some things, his quick uptake on other things, the aforementioned psychic moments, how he almost always seemed to know exactly which direction to go in to get where he needed to go.

"My trees! It wasn't you, was it?" Langford asked accusingly, cutting through Fontaine's thoughts. "No. **Ryan.** I think I've got a way to save the trees, it's a genetic vector that-- Oh, look who I'm talking to." Frowning, Fontaine looked up from the article detailing her work on Arcadia. Hey now, **he** was the only person allowed to pick on Jack for being all brawn. Of course, Jack did take an awful long time to look offended from Langford's comment, which really just proved her point.

"Could you find a sample of Rosa Gallica for me?" Langford asked, Fontaine covering his eyes when Jack looked confused. Come on, kid, _Rosa_ , it didn't need to be that hard, you're surrounded by plants and shit, puzzle it out. "A rose. Find me a rose. Look in the Grotto, I've got to keep working while there's still time." Langford clarified, Fontaine shaking his head and laughing quietly when Jack had the nerve to huff like he was offended or some shit. He was still the only one allowed to pick on the kid, but Langford wasn't wrong.

Luckily Jack's strengths came into play shortly after that display of his weaknesses when he had to take care of some Splicers outside of the tunnel that led to the lab. He found his way to the Grotto easily enough and both of them paused when Jack came upon a group of Splicers beating up a corpse. Fucking Splicers.

Shaking his head as Jack did his thing, Fontaine was about to turn back to his papers when he noticed the path down to the roses Jack needed was littered with electric traps. Deciding this might be interesting, Fontaine set the file aside and watched as Jack tried to gingerly get around the traps. He was actually doing alright for a guy his size until a turret shooting at him destroyed his concentration. Fontaine cringed and stifled a snicker as Jack fell into the traps, getting shocked by three all at once.

Jack quickly took care of the turret once he'd collected himself and then surprised Fontaine by touching one of the wires with his bare hand. The kid gasped and jerked his hand back like it hurt but then he fucking laughed and smacked the last two from the wall like it was nothing. Narrowing his eyes, Fontaine leaned in a little closer. This was going to be interesting indeed.

Choosing to pay attention paid off because once Jack had the roses safely stashed in his pack, a few Splicers dropped into the water between him and the exit. Sure enough, the kid went for the usual for Splicers in water, Fontaine shaking his head as the current predictably traveled to Jack himself and electrocuted him. Just as Fontaine was wondering exactly how much more he would've had to have paid for just a little bit of common sense, Jack fucking _moaned_.

Fontaine had never really heard Jack moan in pain but he'd sure as hell heard him moan in pleasure and **that** moan sure as hell sounded closer to pleasure than anything else. Laughing in surprise, Fontaine ran a hand through his hair. He'd kept himself from hurting Jack while they were fucking for **nothing**! The kid was a fucking freak if he'd ever seen one! "Well, I was gonna get upset about ya bein' so reckless, but it seems like you're enjoyin' yourself down there, boyo." Fontaine piped up, trying not to sound as absolutely fucking elated as he was and ending up with amused. He was gonna fuckin' destroy Jack when they met again. No holds barred. He **had** to figure out how to get to the kid alone again before Hephaestus.

"I wasn't really thinking." Jack muttered apologetically, Fontaine resisting the strong urge to snort. What else was new? "Sorry I made you worry, Papa." Aw, but that was cute. Ditzy but adorable. And fuckable. So fucking fuckable.

"Doesn't seem like you're any worse for the wear from all those shocks." Fontaine hummed, injecting some curiosity into his voice even though he was already sure he knew why. "Think ya mighta given me an idea for somethin' we can try next time we have a moment." He added, lowering his voice and watching in satisfaction as Jack faltered.

"Papa." Jack muttered, sounding all embarrassed and shit as he made his way back to Langford.

Giving Jack his most seductive chuckle that didn't break the "Atlas" voice, Fontaine pulled the radio closer. "Am I makin' your pretty wee prick hard, lad?" He practically purred, grinning like an absolute bastard as a Splicer Jack was about to kill overheard and gave Jack what he could only imagine was a very judgmental look before he could kill her.

"Yeah." Jack admitted quietly, starting when the televisions in front of him came on. Fontaine smiled to himself and leaned back while Langford rushed the kid to get the roses to her and then invited him into the lab. Like he'd told Jack, Langford was an alright sort, but he kinda wanted to watch her die. She'd honestly been far too snarky with his boy for his taste. Just as Fontaine was trying to puzzle out how to convince Jack to turn on Langford, the perfect opportunity came to him.

"Julie, we made a business deal, you and I, did we not?" Ryan. Ah, how many times had Fontaine cursed that name? Now his mind drifted back to the paperweight he had planned. Marble was cliche, he could do better. "Money changed hands-- let me read to you from the agreement. Section Three, Subsection Four: Ryan Corp. maintains exclusive rights to the creation, use, and exploitation of the Lazarus Vector." Ryan read, smoke suddenly starting to fill the lab Langford was cowering in. Gold lettering, definitely. Maybe a dark stone so it stood out more. Gold lettering would look amazing on volcanic rock. _"In slightly less spiteful memory of Andrew Fucking Ryan. Rest in pieces, you wonderful, stupid bitch."_ He could even locally source the rock from an underwater volcano or something.

Fontaine watched with a smug grin as Langford started to choke to death, his attention getting caught when Jack suddenly moved, cocking his fist back like he was about to punch through the window separating him from Langford. "Wait." And maybe Fontaine should've thrown some emotion into that, some worry or panic or _something_ , but this was just as much a golden opportunity for Langford's demise as it was to test Jack. Time to see how far along that degradation was coming without having to ask.

Sure enough, Jack froze. He looked uncertain though, fist still suspended in the air. "But--" Jack started, a squealing cutting him off as Langford started to scrawl something on the glass Jack was still poised to smash.

"Just wait, boyo." Fontaine said calmly, keeping up the neutral tone in his voice even as he saw it was bothering Jack. Still, the kid lowered his arm eventually and simply watched as Langford wrote out a fourth number before her hand slid limply down the glass. Moment of truth and Jack wasn't smiling. Fontaine had his answer. He needed to break the kid a little more.

"Papa, I--" Jack started, hesitating and shifting in clear and obvious discomfort before starting up again. "I could've saved her." He muttered, sounding more uncertain than Fontaine had heard him in awhile. Alright, time to put the mask back on before things went South on him. He had to lean into it slowly though, switch the kid over gently.

"I know you could've, boyo." Fontaine replied, still calm but now just a hint warmer. "But then you'd've released that gas while it was still pumpin'." He continued, voice warmer still and not so void now. "You're tough, but you don't know what breathin' that stuff woulda done to you." And finally Fontaine was using the "Atlas" voice Jack responded to the best, the soft, paternal one. If he played his cards right, and Frank Fontaine was damn good at playing his cards right, he'd have the kid thinking he'd imagined all that ice in his tone earlier. He'd gotten good at gaslighting people once he'd started living his life in the public eye, after all, even if he'd mostly done it in a sexual context.

 _"I wasn't being too rough, you're being sensitive. When have you ever known me to be too rough before? You enjoyed yourself like you always do, so it was in your head. You know me, we've been doing this for awhile, I'd never hurt you. There there, I'm not mad, you just had a lapse in judgment. I forgive you."_ But it would be easy enough to switch his tactics around for this. _"I wasn't being callous, you're being sensitive. When have you ever known me to be callous before? I had a good reason for what I made you do, everything else was in your head. You know me, we've been doing this for awhile, I'd never hurt you. There there, I'm not mad, you just had a lapse in judgment. I forgive you."_

Easy as emotionally manipulating a genetically modified super-assassin. When Jack let out a slow breath and gave a nod, Fontaine knew it was working. The conditioning and the infatuation and Jack's horribly misplaced trust in him were all doing what Fontaine **could've** done with words but really didn't have to. Jack nodded again and even tried to hide a budding smile and after giving him a bit longer to stew, Fontaine went ahead and put the final nail in the coffin.

"I couldn't risk losin' ya, Jack." He breathed softly, a grin that was probably too big and probably quite ugly and definitely inappropriate for his tone plastered to his face.

"I-I didn't think about that, Papa." Jack whispered, looking up again and no longer smiling, but instead looking sad, maybe even-- "I'm sorry." --apologetic. Fucking bingo.

Feeling like he deserved it, Fontaine got out the box of expensive cigars he had hidden in his desk and plucked one out of the holder. "It's alright, boyo." He said gently, that nasty grin never leaving his face as Jack visibly relaxed. Fontaine chopped the tip off his cigar before stashing the box once again and getting his matches out. "Go on, now. The gas's cleared up and the air's only gettin' thinner down there." He coaxed, lighting his cigar and watching Jack finally enter the lab after a soft "right".

While the kid figured out, surprisingly quickly, what the code Langford had given him went to, Fontaine smoked leisurely, feeling as pleased as a cat fat on cream. Jack fished a tape recorder from the depths of the safe the code had gone to and hit play on it, apparently deciding to keep moving while it played. The kid cleared out the lab while Langford droned on, taking care of a pack of Splicers as well as the security that was now on Ryan's side.

Eventually Langford's recording ended and Fontaine decided to speak up. "Arcadia's a big place, but mostly rural. I'd start at the Farmer's Market to start checkin' things off your shoppin' list." He offered, tone as casual as ever even as he waited with nearly baited breath for Jack's response.

"Farmer's Market, got it." Jack said, picking a direction and walking with purpose. Fontaine couldn't help but grin again around his cigar. Jack was back to normal as far as he could tell. It was like the whole scene with Langford hadn't even happened. While Fontaine patted himself on the back mentally, Jack seemed to be taking stock of his supplies. Kid was a fuckin' packrat. Everything he came across went in that pack. It made sense, Fontaine, well, "Atlas", had told him to keep things that looked useful, after all, but still. How the fuck did it all fit? How did he ever find anything in there?

Suddenly Jack almost face-planted just as he was passing through the bulkhead to the Farmer's Market and Fontaine sat up a bit, frowning. That wasn't clumsiness, the kid was surprisingly nimble for how fuckin' stacked he was. He caught himself before he could do more than stumble hard but swayed on his feet when he straightened up and clutched his forehead like he suddenly had a headache. "You alright, boyo?" Fontaine asked, sounding concerned since he very well was. Surely the oxygen in Arcadia wasn't _that_ low already?

"Yeah." Jack muttered, clearing his throat and shaking his head a bit. "I'm alright, Papa. Just got kinda dizzy all of a sudden."

"The oxygen must be gettin' thinner." Fontaine said, frowning more and narrowing his eyes when Jack nodded slowly. _That look_. That was the look Jack always had when Fontaine was selling him some bullshit and Jack was convincing himself of it. Something was up but he couldn't very well press the kid about it. "If you're sure you're alright, then best to keep movin', lad. The faster you get this Lazarus Vector cooked up, the better."

"Right." Jack breathed, shaking his head again and passing fully through the bulkhead to the Farmer's Market. Fontaine for his part decided to try not to worry too much about whatever that had been and whatever was up with Jack unless more pressing symptoms presented themselves. The kid seemed fine enough, after all, if still a little dazed. He certainly still fought like he was perfectly fine as the Splicers who tried to attack him while he was lollygagging near the bulkhead found out.

The kid finally picked a direction to go in and seemed to really be trucking it. Fontaine realized it probably stank to hell and back in there. Rotting person was foul and rotting fish was even moreso, but nothing quite compared to rotting cheese. Jack was learning that firsthand. After speeding through the first section of the market, Jack's progress was impeded by a Houdini and a Rosie duking it out. He wisely stayed the fuck out of it and then took on the Rosie when it, predictably, won. Jack, even more predictably, won the next round and decided to be disgusting with the Adam slug on the go instead pausing for it like last time.

Fontaine still didn't watch, only dragging his eyes back to the screen when he heard the distinct buzzing of bees. Snuffing out the shriveled remains of his cigar, Fontaine watched in mild interest as Jack was mobbed by a small swarm of bees that had just finished with a Splicer. His mild interest moved up to moderate as Jack didn't even react to getting stung. There was no way he didn't feel the stings, Fontaine could see the spots forming on his skin wherever he was stung. He couldn't see the color, so he couldn't _really_ know for sure, but he was fairly certain they were blood spots. The kid just went on looting like he always did, like it wasn't anything.

Then Jack was moving on and the bees left him alone. He picked up some Plasmids, for once, from the Gatherer's Garden nearby and kept right on fucking going. Those bees were venomous! What had Jack been splicing with!? Fontaine was surprised Jack even bothered using the damn smokers in the next room and then realized his surprise was perfectly valid when the smoke faded and Jack just let himself get swarmed instead of going back to start the smokers up again. He was fucking **covered** in the damn bees and the only reason Fontaine knew he was still on the hunt for their fucking spit was because the giant angry ball of buzzing death kept moving too.

 **Ten minutes!** Ten whole-ass fucking minutes of getting swarmed and stung and apparently not even giving half a damn before Jack waded out of the beehive room. He was covered in little dots and Fontaine thought he might be about to have a mild attack, he wasn't sure what kind exactly, when Jack just stood there, examining himself all casually and shit. Then Jack shot up with a Quik-Heal and Fontaine started to feel a little better. So the kid was at least bothered enough to clear up the venom no doubt coursing through his system. That was something.

And then something dawned on Fontaine. "Sure took those stings like a champ, boyo." He said, trying for casual and mostly getting it. There was maybe enough mischief in there for Jack to know something was up, but if he _did_ notice it, he made no indication. "Thinkin' maybe ya didn't particularly mind 'em." He added, his voice going a little lower as he watched Jack carefully. "Thinkin' _maybe_ you enjoyed yourself in there." Fontaine finished, dropping right down to seductive and grinning triumphantly when Jack looked embarrassed.

Yeah, it all made sense now. What a fucking freak Suchong had cooked up for him. "It-- maybe tingled a little. Maybe not in a bad way." Jack admitted, making Fontaine chuckle.

"Thought so." He practically purred, deciding he deserved some playtime after all that stress he'd just went through. There were precious few things as amusing as flustering Jack while he was busy. Fontaine had learned that early on. "Had I known you were such a masochist, I mighta been a little more adventurous durin' our meetin' in my bedroom." He said, making sure to speak lowly enough so his accents clashed, making his voice rumble in the perfect seductive combination of the two. Fontaine was damn good at accents and voices and the like, but talking too quietly always gave him some trouble. He managed well enough when he had to, but mostly he just tried to speak loudly enough to keep everything straight.

" **I** didn't even know." Jack said, Fontaine getting a shiver from the kid as he hummed, really nearly moaned, into the radio. "Papa, you're making it so hard to keep moving." Jack whined softly, Fontaine giving him that sexy chuckle again and biting his tongue to stifle a much less flattering laugh as his fuckery distracted Jack enough to get him caught in the crosshairs of a turret and a security camera at the same time.

"Oh, aye?" Fontaine asked coyly once Jack had dealt with the machines, a grin plastered on his face. "Bet that's not the only thing I'm makin' hard."

"Fuck, Papa." Jack practically whimpered, ducking into a closet that Fontaine was only mildly annoyed to find didn't have a camera he could see him from in it. "I want you so bad right now." He didn't have to see Jack to be able to imagine how flushed he probably was and how hard his dick was likely straining at his trousers.

"Tell me what you want, boyo." Fontaine breathed, leaning back in his chair after situating his radio in the perfect position for what was essentially phone sex. If Jack was gonna make him stress out over bee stings, Fontaine was gonna get something worthwhile out of it, damn it.

"Shouldn't we--" Jack started, Fontaine hearing his hesitance and quickly pulling his radio closer so Jack could hear him slowly unzipping his pants and freeing his cock. That shut the kid up right fucking quick.

Deciding to keep the radio in his off hand, Fontaine pulled it away from his crotch and close to his mouth. "Not gonna make me take care of this all by my lonesome, are ya, boyo?" He asked seductively, grinning again when Jack moaned and getting started at a slow, leisurely pace.

"No, Papa." _Good boy._

"Then tell me what you want me to do to you so badly." Fontaine prompted, excited to see how Jack would take to this. He'd led both of their sexual encounters so far, after all, and now he was forcing Jack to do the bulk of the heavy lifting. It was gonna be interesting to see how he handled it.

"I want you to grab me by the hair, force me to my knees, and make me choke on your cock until I'm swallowing down your load." Jack said slowly, almost uncertainly, and Fontaine nearly gripped his cock far too hard in his surprise, a moan leaving him without his say-so. Whatever he'd been expecting, something **that** filthy hadn't been it. When Jack spoke up again, he sounded much more confident, likely because of the moan he'd managed to drag out of him. "I'd swallow every drop, Papa. I'd swallow every drop and thank you for using me, thank you for the gift of your cum."

 _Oh, fuck_. Moaning again at the mental image of Jack on knees fucking **thanking** him for fucking his face and cumming down his throat had Fontaine's hand moving faster. "That's right, boyo." He groaned, somehow remembering to keep up the "Atlas" accent. "I'm gonna take my sweet time fuckin' that dirty mouth o' yours when we meet again." Fontaine promised, wanting the kid to know for sure that he was gonna sleep in the bed he was making. Jack had the absolute fucking audacity to moan and Fontaine had to move the radio away from his mouth so he could do a bit of quiet, candid swearing.

"Oh, Papa, I want that so bad. I wanna hear your sexy, perfect voice telling me what a little whore I am for taking your cock so eagerly while I choke on it."

"Fuck, boyo, that's it. Keep goin'." Fontaine groaned, shocked at how good at this Jack was and elated for having thought to make him try it. For someone who Fontaine had only heard swear casually maybe a handful of times, the kid was fucking filthy.

"The thought of you finishing in my mouth and slapping me like I'm some two-bit whore just cuz you know you can." Jack continued, Fontaine adding slapping to the mental list of things he was going to make Jack make good on as he stroked himself off. "And I'd love it. I'd love whatever you did to me, Papa. Fuck my face, slap me, call me every filthy name you can think of, I'd take it and thank you for it." Moaning louder than he'd meant to, Fontaine bit his lip, his hips actually bucking a little. He'd never gotten so riled up over dirty talk before.

"And the thought of your thick, perfect cock just wrecking my ass." Jack said, a slow, lewd moan leaving him. Coming from anyone else, Fontaine would think they were embellishing, but it was easy to believe Jack was really that turned on just from thinking of getting fucked. "Fuck, Papa. I'd beg you until my throat was raw just to feel that perfect cock tear me up inside. I'd kiss your boots and grovel at your feet for hours to feel you inside me again." That fuckin' did it. The mental image of Jack on the ground begging for his cock did it and Fontaine came rather suddenly, a noise that was far too genuine and definitely not in "Atlas'" voice escaping him.

Luckily it seemed Jack was too busy nutting himself to notice. "Goddamn, boyo." Fontaine huffed, arousal thick in his tone and the "Atlas" accent coming out proper despite his twitching, softening cock still in his hand. "You wouldn't believe the mess I have to clean up now. Had no idea ya were so damn dirty." Cum had gotten _everywhere_ since it had happened so suddenly. It was all over his shirt, there was some on his chair, there was even a spurt or two that had somehow made it up to the radio.

As he took a moment to catch his breath, Fontaine could hear Jack cleaning up with what sounded like paper napkins. "Neither did I." He said after a bit, dragging a small chuckle out of Fontaine even as he sat up properly and started to clean himself up. "Thinking about you just makes me so flustered. I'd let you do anything to me, Papa."

Grunting softly as his cock twitched lightly where it was still hanging out of his pants, Fontaine shot a glare at the radio. "You're gonna make me hard again, lad. I'm not as young as I used to be, ya might just end up killin' me." He grumbled, voice rougher than he meant for it to be. He could blame it on afterglow, though, so it was fine. Or needing a smoke. Fuck, he needed a smoke.

"Okay, I'll behave." Jack said softly, Fontaine hearing it as he got moving again. He was busy tucking his cock away and removing his soiled shirt when Jack's radio crackled again. Fontaine paused mid-removal, glancing at the monitors and practically holding his breath.

"Please do." Ryan grumbled, sounding annoyed and downright disgusted. "At this point, I think I welcome death."

"I forgot he can hear us." Jack whispered, sounding absolutely mortified. Fontaine couldn't help it, he couldn't stifle it, he barely got it to come out in "Atlas'" voice. Snorting hard, he started laughing, forgetting all about the cigarette he'd been trying to get cleaned up enough to enjoy. "It's not funny!" Jack shouted, his voice higher than usual. Fontaine just laughed even harder, having to brace himself against his desk since he'd been standing.

"Serves 'im right for eavesdroppin'!" Fontaine declared, calming down after a bit longer and running his clean hand through his hair. "Now, if you think you have enough of everythin', head back to Langford's lab and put the whole witches brew together. We need t'get this fog cleared up." He said, taking the radio with him as he retreated to his restroom to clean up quickly and snag a fresh shirt.

"Yes, Papa." Jack mumbled, still sounding embarrassed. It was kinda cute. It was also good to know that the kid didn't particularly fancy having an audience. Fontaine could use that if he ever wanted to make Jack uncomfortable for no reason since apparently the kid was a fucking freak and it was seeming an awful lot like there wouldn't be many ways to make him uncomfortable short of actual fucking torture.

By the time Fontaine was cleaned up and settled back down at his desk, with his cigarette, Jack was already back in the part of the Farmer's Market with all the rotting food that he'd sped through before. For some reason this time around, he paused, making Fontaine raise an eyebrow. Surely the Little Sisters would be avoiding this area if there weren't any Big Daddies around and Fontaine had never really seen Jack pause for anything else, so something had to be up.

As if in answer to his unspoken question, three Houdini Splicers appeared around Jack and Fontaine's other eyebrow joined the first up near his hairline. Houdinis were up there with Spiders as some of the strongest types of Splicers so watching Jack take on three Houdinis at once might just be interesting. Putting one of his new Plasmids to use, which annoyed Fontaine because it was like the kid fucking **knew** he'd need it, Jack froze two of the Houdinis and turned in time to shoot a blast of cold from his hand to counter the fireball the third Houdini shot at him.

When the third one vanished, Jack turned and shattered one of them and was about to give the other one the same treatment but he thawed enough to vanish with a snap of his fingers just as Jack was about to bring his wrench down. Suddenly Jack froze and Fontaine leaned in a little closer, watching with a smirk despite himself as Jack whirled around to stun, freeze, and shatter the Splicer that popped up first. His instincts and reaction times were coming along nicely. Not as nicely as his strength, but better than Fontaine had dared hope for by this point in the operation.

Then Jack was getting hit in the back by a fireball and Fontaine cringed a bit even as Jack let out a lovely little scream, leaning back in his chair with a silent "ooh" as the hit sent Jack sprawling onto his face. Before the offending Houdini could attack, Jack had rolled over and frozen him, using the Splicer's own momentum to bring him down onto the floor, the force shattering him spectacularly. Well, that had been interesting indeed. At this point, though, Fontaine felt fairly certain that nothing short of an actual army, primarily consisting of Rosies, was going to do Jack in. Those Houdinis had tried, though, and the burn on Jack's back definitely looked like it at least hurt.

Quite suddenly Fontaine's mind went blank. Jack was taking his shirt off. Fontaine registered vaguely the kid swearing and then the shirt was discarded and Fontaine pushed his bangs out of his face, pursing his lips and staring at the monitor Jack was showing up on. The kid shot up with a Quik-Heal and as the skin on his back healed, Fontaine got the full view of his muscles moving unhindered by any fabric. _Fuck_. It was like watching a statue move. An impractical version of the "perfect" male physique except that's just what Jack actually fucking looked like. He hadn't ordered that! He hadn't even thought to! That was all Suchong! Every rippling, bulging, delicious--

The sound of an alarm blaring on the other side of the radio cut off Fontaine's train of thought and got him to look at his other monitors where a dozen or so flying turrets were coming for Jack from all over Arcadia. Instead of using any of the neglected guns he still had on his person, Jack decided zapping the turrets out of the sky with Electro Bolt and then crushing them with a boulder he was moving with Telekinesis was the best way to fight the horde. Well, it couldn't ever be said he didn't get his use out of the Plasmids he'd collected so far, that was for sure.

By the time the alarm shut off and the last turret was downed, Jack was panting and sweating, his unnecessary muscles glistening even in the shitty quality of Fontaine's monitors. As he openly stared, Fontaine realized he was basically a horny teenager wrapped in the facade of a conman wrapped in the facade of a businessman wrapped in the facade of a revolutionary. That realization didn't stop him from continuing to stare as Jack plowed through some Splicers on the way back to Langford's lab but introspection was almost always good even if it didn't serve to change anything. Since he spent his time lying to the rest of the world, Fontaine tried to be honest with himself.

Finally Jack arrived in the lab and Fontaine pulled himself out of watching Jack long enough to speak up once the kid had the Vector mixed. "Atta boy, Jack. Now just drop the Vector into a gadget called the Central Misting Control and we'll be cookin' with gas." He said, his voice somehow coming out perfectly normal despite how much mental drooling he was doing while watching Jack work shirtless.

After Jack did what he was told, he hit start on the machine and Fontaine immediately leaned away from the radio on his desk, frowning at the amount of distorted noise coming from it. "Ah, listen to that damn thing gurgle and crank." He complained, grimacing at the noise and trying to speak above it without yelling. "How long is it gonna take?"

"Twenty minutes according to this screen." Jack replied after looking around for some indication and finding it. Thankfully, he moved away from the machine and walked to the other end of the lab where he started storing some of his supplies in the safe there.

"Suppose we'll just have to settle in and--" Fontaine started, his train of thought getting derailed and an involuntary groan escaping him as the speaker in the lab came to life.

"It seems Julie's death didn't provide a clear enough lesson to you." Ryan said, pausing dramatically before carrying on. "Perhaps _this_ will suffice." _Aaand_ then nothing fucking happened. It was a solid minute later when Jack hummed a bit and voiced Fontaine's thoughts.

"Well, that was anti-climactic."

Chuckling lightly, Fontaine decided he'd gone long enough without something to drink and went to remedy that. "Ryan's got your number now. No doubt he'll be sendin' company." He said, not even the slightest bit concerned about his Ace's safety but deciding to take Ryan seriously for once. "Probably best to head back to the lab entrance and seal her up. Might be the only way to keep the Splicers out."

"What's the fun in keeping them out?" Jack asked quietly, wrenching a surprised laugh from Fontaine's throat while he was in the middle of taking in a mouthful of gin.

Deciding "fuck it", Fontaine swallowed his mouthful hard and dropped his voice down to just short of absolutely lecherous. "Well, in that case, take 'em on somewhere with a camera. Been enjoyin' watchin' you run around without a shirt on." He admitted, grinning when Jack flushed. Yeah, he was definitely a horny teenager at heart, but at least Jack was horny too.

Without saying another word, Jack walked into the biggest area of the lab and took his meat hooks from his belt. Realizing quickly what Jack was doing, Fontaine scooted closer to his desk and quickly started switching off the monitors he didn't need. Damn the potential consequences to hell, he was going to enjoy this show. There was a Vita Chamber nearby, anyway, so it's not like Jack wouldn't actually be just fine if Fontaine's lack of attention somehow got him killed. That was highly unlikely, anyway, and as far as Fontaine was concerned, it was worth the risk.

The first Splicers started entering the lab and Fontaine settled in for what he was sure was going to be one hell of a show. Using that uncanny agility and speed, Jack started dashing about the lab between Splicers, his meat hooks flashing a bit as he did everything from ripping out their throats to gutting them. About a dozen slit throats, cracked open chests, and otherwise brutally murdered Splicers later and Jack was spattered in blood from tits to toes.

Fontaine's heart was beating a little too fast and his breathing was sort of stuttery as he watched the show, completely mesmerized. Jack looked like he was having a hard time walking on the blood-soaked floor but he'd acclimated by the time the next wave of Splicers came in, Fontaine unable to keep himself from laughing quietly when a few of them hesitated at the door. The rest charged, though and Jack took to sliding around in the blood to keep up the show. It was almost like watching figure-skating.

God, with how many times he'd compared Jack to assorted types of art, he was starting to think he'd spent too long in Rapture. It felt appropriate, though. In that moment, Jack was like watching a work of art as he destroyed all the Splicers that entered the lab, the gory smile that graced his now blood-covered instead of blood-spattered face was the most beautiful thing Fontaine had seen in a long time. And maybe there was something deeply wrong with him for finding death and gore so fucking beautiful, but he'd never claimed to be right.

Letting out a slow breath as Jack rested after the second wave, Fontaine pulled the radio closer, deciding he should say something. "Looks like the Vector's about halfway there, boyo. Keep your hand on the throttle." He said, pausing before deciding to throw in something a little more personal. This whole show Jack was putting on was because of the comment he'd made, after all. It wouldn't do to appear ungrateful, he'd raised himself better than that. "You're doin' amazin', by the by. I've never seen anyone look so incredible while killin'." A little dark for "Atlas" but it was the honest-to-god truth and Jack deserved to hear it.

His praise got a cute little smile out of Jack and Fontaine decided it was time to start really coming to grips with being in love with the little murder machine. Denial had never suited him, after all, it clashed with dishonesty and tended to make one look ignorant. "Thanks, Papa. I'm glad you're enjoying the show." Jack replied, confirming that this was indeed a show just for Fontaine. He was gonna marry the kid. He'd never believed in marriage, but damn all that to hell, he was gonna fuckin' marry him.

Ah, but Fontaine's wedding plans were interrupted in the best way possible by the sound of another wave of Splicers approaching, this one sounding much larger than the last two. Locking his eyes on his future wife, Fontaine watched as the magma cracks of Incinerate appeared on Jack's arms and couldn't help himself, gripping his chest right about where his heart was thumping away. There were precious few things in the world that Fontaine loved more than watching someone suffer and once Jack got those hooks up to glowing, he knew he was in for quite a show in that department.

The only thing that could possibly hurt worse than getting your organs torn out of your body by meat hooks was getting them torn out while every part of you those meat hooks touched was burned horribly. Oh, and the show was absolutely gorgeous. Fontaine only lamented briefly the fact that he couldn't see the carnage in color before he was too distracted by watching Jack's dance to worry about color. He had a vivid imagination, anyway, and his mind could fill in the gaps the shitty monitors before him created.

Just as the last Splicer fell, a resounding _ding_ came through the radio from elsewhere in the lab and it distracted Fontaine from the applause he was about to shower Jack with. That was probably a little too morbid. It was bad enough he'd pretty much asked for all this and that he'd complemented Jack about it, applauding it, a goddamn standing ovation is what it deserved, but still, felt like a step too far too soon. "Perfect timin'." Fontaine muttered, feeling more calm than he had in actual years. It was like he'd just finished taking a hot shower or maybe a particularly good nap. _Refreshed_. Yeah, that was it, he felt refreshed.

Jack for his part was stumbling back to where the Vector was ready to be deployed, his bloody shoes squeaking and slipping on the floors of the lab. It was amusing, having just watched Jack gracefully snuff out so many lives, to now be watching him barely keep his footing while simply going to flip a switch. Still, Jack made it and flipped said switch, Fontaine turning all of his monitors back on in time to watch the trees of Arcadia miraculously perk right up.

"Well done, lad." Fontaine praised excitedly, finding his positive emotions stronger and easier to display than usual. Maybe he oughta try to watch people die more often. Apparently it was good for him. "Made quite a mess of yourself, though, didn't ya?" He teased, grinning at first but then looking confused when Jack seemed surprised by the gore he was caked in. Had the kid seriously not noticed?

"I sure did." Jack said sheepishly, trying halfheartedly to wipe at some of the blood on his chest before quickly giving up and laughing softly. "Guess I got a little carried away."

"Oh, I'd say so." Fontaine said, amusement winning out over confusion and showing in his voice. "What a treat it was to watch, though." He added, allowing his voice to drop considerably and grinning when it made Jack shiver. Fontaine **had** already complimented the kid's performance, after all, so it didn't feel nearly as risky to do that again as it felt to applaud it.

"Yeah?" Jack asked, sounding all shy and shit and smiling when Fontaine gave him an affirmative hum.

"But, as much as I like watchin' ya fight topless and as good as you look covered in blood, maybe we oughta get ya cleaned up." Fontaine practically sighed, the part about the blood slipping out accidentally even though he meant it. "I'll send you some clothes through the pneumo at the lab entrance." As Jack started walking, Fontaine got up and got Jack's clean clothes from his room, sending them through the pneumo and taking his seat back. Jack was taking it slow this time around, likely so as to not fall on his ass, and had only made it about halfway to where he needed to be.

"Bet one of those waterfalls you were admirin' earlier would make a fine place to rinse all that blood off." Fontaine suggested, getting a nod from Jack and watching as he cleverly cleaned his hands off using the Winter Blast and Incinerate Plasmids. For as dumb as the kid could be sometimes, he was at least pretty damn resourceful.

"Thanks, Papa. I'll make it quick, promise." Jack said as he got his clothes from the pneumo and started to make his way to the nearest waterfall.

"Plenty of time, boyo, plenty of time." Fontaine assured, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk. "Take a deep breath and enjoy it while you can cuz we're one stop away from Ryan's house. Then it's time for blood." And maybe Fontaine could've tried to cut the dark edge from his tone and it was perhaps a bit hungrier than he'd meant for it to be, but Jack just grinned and that was very reassuring. It was nice to see Jack react positively whenever he let some of his true colors show, made him feel like he wasn't gonna scare the kid off when everything came to a head and it was time for the truth to rear its ugly head.

Deciding not to dwell on that and to take his own advice, Fontaine smoked and drank leisurely while Jack cleaned himself up. He looked a little, but watching the kid bathe didn't compare even a little to watching him kill so it wasn't all that exciting. Jack finished cleaning up quick enough and after cleverly using Incinerate to dry off, he got dressed, deciding not to put his sweater on and instead stuffing it into his bag. Ah, the bitter, far too familiar sting of regret.

See, as much as Fontaine liked watching Jack run around in his muscle shirt, a part of him wanted to tell the kid to put his ugly fucking sweater on for Fort Frolic, but he didn't think he'd be able to come up with a good, believable reason for it. _"That old pervert Cohen would probably give his painting hand to spend an hour with you and advertising your assets to him is just gonna make him even more eager to get his grubby mitts on you"_ sounded jealous and possessive even to himself. He **was** jealous and possessive, but that felt like one of those little things that he should ease Jack into, like the casual sadism and the mood swings.

Reluctantly, Fontaine ignored the feeling in his gut that he'd regret not telling Jack something and focused. The kid was currently looking down at the heap of bloody clothes near the edge of the pool and Fontaine couldn't help but smile a bit. "Just leave 'em, boyo. Don't think any amount of washin'll get the blood out of 'em." He said, not particularly caring about the clothes since they hadn't fit him in years.

"Good point." Jack said, nodding and gearing back up before getting a move on. He sighed when he passed through the door that led to the metro and Fontaine was tempted to breathe a sigh of his own until Jack's radio crackled. For the love of--

"Why are you so resistant to the traditional methods of separating a man from his soul?" Ryan demanded, clearly frustrated. Fontaine was surprised by how little Jack seemed phased this time around. He'd stopped smiling, sure, but it almost seemed like he was ignoring Ryan as he moved over to a bench and picked up a tape recorder like nothing was off. "I suppose that roach Atlas believes he's found quite the weapon in you." Ah, there it was. One very dead tape recorder and a seething assassin all for the price of one sentence. Good going, Ryan. "No matter, I'll exterminate the both of you in due time. I just need to find the proper poison."

Now Fontaine was surprised that Jack didn't have anything to say to that. He looked like if he could, he'd reach through the radio and strangle Ryan right then and there, but he remained silent and even kept moving after taking a deep, slow breath. When Jack laid back on the seats of the bathysphere he was now riding in and threw his arm over his eyes, Fontaine felt an unfamiliar pang of worry and sat up proper in his chair.

"You alright, boyo?" Fontaine asked softly, unable and unwilling to mask his concern. It made him feel-- kinda gross, honestly, but "Atlas" was a compassionate sort, or he was **supposed** to be, so it made sense coming from him. "Don't think I've ever seen ya so angry."

"I've never wanted someone to suffer as badly as I want _him_ to." Jack muttered, after moving his radio closer to his face. "It's not _bothering_ me, not-- morally, but it's hard to deal with. I can't remember ever feeling **anything** as strongly as I've felt **everything** down here."

Suddenly getting a bad, dangerous idea, Fontaine hummed lightly. Fuck it, time to take a risk. Worst case scenario, he'd ask Jack to _kindly_ forget what they'd been talking about and convince the kid he'd blacked out or something. "Hold on a tick, boyo." Fontaine said, pulling over his control board and hacking the frequency of their radios so Ryan wouldn't be able to hear them. "What would you say to not killin' Ryan off right away?" He asked once he was done, his voice much quieter and his tone showing his uncertainty.

"I-- what do you mean?" Jack practically whispered back, Fontaine shifting uncomfortably in his seat from how hard that particular tone was to read.

"Well, if you kill someone, you only make 'em suffer once, don'tcha?" He started slowly, trying to figure out the best way to pitch this even as his mouth was already moving. "You keep 'em around for awhile and suddenly you can make 'em suffer whenever the mood strikes you." _"Atlas" would never! What are you doing!? The kid's not ready!_ But the words were already out there and now Jack was being real quiet, Fontaine practically holding his breath while he waited to be proven right.

"Are you-- Papa, are you suggesting we keep Ryan around to torture him?" Jack asked quietly after making Fontaine sweat for a bit.

Realizing he was right and that he'd made a terrible mistake, Fontaine panicked and tried to laugh, the sound coming out nervous and not at all believable. "Ah, just jokin', boyo. Poor taste?" He asked nervously, licking his lips in preparation to quickly spit out the trigger phrase. Jack's next words slapped the phrase right off his tongue, though, because with Jack's next words, he called Fontaine on his bullshit.

"No you weren't." Jack whispered into the radio, having sat up a bit ago and now rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. "Papa, I--" He paused, swallowing audibly before continuing. "I would really like that. I-I was just thinking that Ryan deserves worse than death. Are-- you weren't joking, were you?"

All the breath rushed out of Fontaine's lungs in one heave of relief and he leaned forward to plant an elbow on his desk, one hand in his hair, supporting his head and the other dragging the radio closer. "No, I wasn't." He admitted lowly, laughing in relief. "God, lad, you scared me. Thought for sure you were gonna--" _Tell me off, finally confirm that our dark sides are too different, show me before it's even time that you won't be able to handle me for who I really am._ "--well, that isn't important." Is what Fontaine ended up saying, a sigh in his voice. "You're really into it then, boyo? Not just agreein' to make me happy or anythin' like that?" He asked earnestly, still in denial that Jack was really so perfect for him.

"I'm into it, I swear." Jack said, his own tone earnest now. "I didn't even think to bring it up to you, I didn't think you would-- oh, Papa, I love you so much. You're the most perfect man I've ever met, you know that?" He suddenly spewed out all at once, sounding-- honestly, sounding just delighted.

"I love you too, lad." Fontaine said sincerely, far more sincerely than he'd meant to. More sincerely than he'd meant to feel it too. Apparently that whole "coming to grips" thing was coming along just swell. "Can't believe how lucky I am."

"Wait, can't Ryan hear us? Won't he know what we're up to?" Jack suddenly asked, worry plain in his voice.

"I hacked the radio so he can't hear us. He'll figure it out eventually and hack back in, but until then, we're alone." Fontaine explained, smiling a little when he looked up to see Jack slump in obvious relief. "Now, you're almost to Fort Frolic and once you're out of that metal bubble, he'll probably realize what I've done, so we don't have long." He said quickly, straightening up again. "Keep to it like nothin's changed once you're out, we don't wanna tip 'im off to what the new plan is."

"Right. I can do that." Jack assured, offering the camera above the door one of those cute smiles.

"That's a good lad." Fontaine praised, sure Jack could hear that he was smiling and not giving a damn. "Game face on now, remember how angry ya were when you got in that 'sphere."

Jack gave a nod and Fontaine watched him switch over from smiling to looking as pissed as he had when he'd entered the bathysphere. Leaning back, Fontaine swept his hair back again and let out a slow breath. That had fucking worked. Jack had agreed to his extraordinarily bad idea of dethroning Ryan by imprisoning him instead of killing him. A slow smile split Fontaine's face and he laughed low in his chest, closing his eyes and trying to get himself under control.

Fontaine was practically vibrating with excitement now; he couldn't wait to reveal who he really was to Ryan. It would be after he'd squared Jack away, hopefully, and he'd be able to look Ryan in the eyes while he revealed that every victory Ryan ever thought he'd earned against him was a sham that Fontaine had let him believe in. Tugging on his hair just short of hard enough to bring on a headache, Fontaine quickly lit up another cigarette and took a drag, still trying to calm himself.

There was no room for doubt, not anymore. Fontaine was going to make Jack accept him by any means necessary short of using his trigger phrase. He was going to have it all no matter what. He was going to have Ryan and the sweet, _sweet_ satisfaction of revealing that Ryan had been poised to lose the moment he'd agreed to let Fontaine come down to Rapture. He was going to have his boy. He was going to have Rapture. Fontaine was going to have it all and nothing short of Rapture spontaneously falling into the deepest trenches of the sea and killing them all instantly was going to stop him.

The best part? Ryan’s own flesh and blood was gonna be the one handing it all to him on a silver fucking platter. Despite everything he’d been through and every set-back he’d worked around, it was damn good to be Frank fucking Fontaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What!? Phone sex in the BioShock fandom!? Unheard of!" I know, I know. I'm a bit of a revolutionary.
> 
> Conversely: "Hey! You already did a phone sex scene!" Yes, yes I did. BioShock is the designated phone sex fandom, fucking fight me, scrub.
> 
> Credit to the entertainer Lily Orchard for the "have their cake and fuck it too" line. I got it from her. Don't know if she's the originator, but I got it from her.
> 
> This is the #FuckIt chapter, fight me.
> 
> Alex! Stop trying to fight everyone! No, fuck you, fight me.


	9. Fort Frolic Jack PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack meets Sander F. Cohen. It doesn't end well.
> 
> (The "F" stands for "Fucking" but everyone who's played the game already knew that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Atlas, Sander Cohen
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Sadism, Non-Consensual Breathplay, Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Murder, Drug Use, Idolatry, Broken Bones, Strangulation, Smoking

"You're almost there. The sphere to Ryan is on up ahead." Atlas informed, his voice a bit on the softer side but otherwise pretty normal. Jack picked up on the general tone and simply gave a nod to the first camera that caught his eye. As far as Ryan would know, Jack was still angry and Atlas was offering comfort the best way he could by speaking softly. It was perfectly believable.

As Jack passed through a door into a room piled with luggage, his radio crackled for the first time since Atlas had hacked it and Jack figured that meant Ryan could hear them again. "Ryan's handed the keys to Fort Frolic over to a guy named Sander Cohen." Atlas informed, his voice a touch more distorted than usual. "Some say Cohen's an artist. He's a Section Eight, I say. I've seen all kinds of cutthroats, freaks," As Atlas was listing, music started to distort his voice and Jack stopped to frown at his hip. "and hard cases in my life, but Cohen, he's a real lunatic. A dyed-in-the-wool--" Atlas was officially cut off by an opera and Jack unclipped his radio to look at it properly.

The dial was where it always was, it didn't look damaged in any way, and when Jack clicked it off and back on again, it came to life with the usual burst of static. Frowning more, Jack tapped the side of the radio gently with his open palm but the opera just kept playing. Deciding it must be the area he was in, Jack hurried past the luggage and many vending machines around the area and practically jogged down to the bathysphere that would take him further.

Just as Jack was thinking he wouldn't even need to deal with Sander Cohen, the bathysphere door closed and it started to lower into the ocean. Freezing, Jack frowned at the submersible, unable to do more than watch it go. Maybe it was on a timer? Maybe he'd just need to wait for it to run its course and then it'd be back. Then the lights began to dim, music suddenly filled the room, and curtains began to slowly lower over the large windows surrounding the port. None of that was even half as strange as the-- statues? that started coming down from the ceiling, suspended by thick ropes and bobbing a bit, as though dancing to the music.

"Ah, that's better." An unfamiliar voice sighed from Jack's hip, cutting off the opera that had still been going. "Atlas, Ryan, Atlas, Ryan, duh duh duh, duh duh duh **duh**. Time was you could get something _decent_ on the radio." The voice, Cohen if Jack had to guess, sighed, making Jack clench his jaw a bit as he made his way back to the entrance of the port. The doors shuttered as Jack approached, locked, and Jack sighed lightly. Of course. "The artist has a duty to seduce the ear and delight the spirit, so say goodbye to those two **blowhards** , and hello to an evening with _Sander Cohen!_ "

If the doors hadn't unlocked and slid open in that moment, Jack would've torn the metal apart with his bare hands. He was **not** in the mood for games and even less in the mood to listen to yet another jackass badmouth his Papa. Any words Jack might've had for Cohen died on his tongue, though, as he noticed all the electrical traps that had been strung up between him and the only other direction he could try. Just as Jack was about to start plowing through the tripwires, knowing they wouldn't hurt badly enough to incapacitate him, Cohen spoke up again.

"Now, I haven't seen a sign of real life down here in months. Let's see if you're just another Johnny-come-lately, or maybe something more **delicious**." Ooh, Jack didn't like that. Suppressing a shiver, Jack started batting away tripwires but stopped when he heard scrabbling on the ceiling. Looking up, he spotted two Spider Splicers coming his way and sneered. **This** he was in the mood for.

Getting Electro Bolt ready in both hands, Jack aimed one hand at each Spider and let rip. They fell from the ceiling, convulsing, but Jack didn't let up, following them as a sustained arc of electricity traveled from both hands and into the Splicers. They hit the ground in a twist of convulsing limbs and after a solid minute of filling them with the most powerful voltage he could muster, Jack's Eve ran out and his lightning suddenly cut off. Needless to say, the Spiders weren't moving anymore, but they were smoking an awful lot.

"Nicely done. Where did you study?" Cohen asked, sounding impressed.

What an excellent question. One Jack didn't have an answer for and that he no longer cared to know the answer to either. Instead of voicing as much, Jack smacked down the remaining tripwires in his way and shot up with an Eve hypo while he walked towards the doors at the far end of the area. A scrabbling above him made Jack stop in his tracks and he decided to give Sonic Boom a whirl.

Looking up, Jack prepared the Plasmid in both hands and fired it at the Spiders. They went flying and hit the wall above the doors Jack was heading towards. Before gravity could bring them back down to the ground, Jack impaled all four of them through the head with an icicle courtesy of Winter Blast.

"Ohhh, I can smell the malt vinegar in this one." Cohen practically moaned, making Jack scrunch his nose a bit. "I've waited so long for something _tasty_ to come to this little burg, but all that pass are yokels and **rubes**." He complained, Jack having made it to the doors and preparing to rip into them before they started to slide open. "Where are my manners? Come in, come in! Sander Cohen awaits you-- at the Fleet Hall!" Cohen shouted after a dramatic pause, making Jack roll his eyes.

At this point, he was mostly just tired. Not physically, the Adam warming his stomach and buzzing in his veins kept him from feeling physical fatigue, but he was mentally, or maybe emotionally, drained. All Jack wanted was to take a hot bath, preferably with Atlas, and enjoy a stiff drink. A stiff something else wouldn't be unwelcome, but Jack wasn't going to be greedy. A bath and a drink would do.

As he thought, Jack passed by a great many slot machines and eventually found himself in a large, circular room with a huge staircase in the center. It slowly began to light up, one vivid neon sign at a time and when it was finally done, Jack decided it was too bright and that he hated it. Walking towards the staircase, Jack realized there was a spotlight trained on him and he was in the middle of figuring out where it was so he could kill it when Cohen spoke up again.

" **Welcome** \-- to-- Fort Frolic!" He shouted dramatically, severely overestimating the amount of fucks Jack had to spare for tacky lights and bad statues. "No need to thank me for jamming the transmission of those _boors_ Atlas and Ryan. Let them have their squabble. The artist, _yes_ , **the artist** , knows there is richer earth to till." Cohen hummed, really having no way of knowing the kind of wrath he was building up for himself with every syllable that left him. "For example, I test you, little moth, but for a reason. I test all my disciples. Some _shiiine_ like galaxies, and some-- some burn like a moth at the flame. Come now, into my home."

Yep, that was the plan. Shooting another icicle at the spotlight he'd finally located, Jack walked up the giant staircase, avoiding getting drenched by a large leak flowing down from the ceiling at about the halfway point. "Ooh, a shy little moth, are we?" Cohen asked, his tone halfway between teasing and pouty. "Now, now, you'll never shine if you don't get used to the spotlight." And just like that, another light snapped on somewhere and started to illuminate Jack. As tempting as it was to kill that one too, and any others Cohen might point at him, Jack just kept moving, his tiredness slowly but surely morphing into a simmering rage.

Once he made it all the way up the stairs, Jack went in the only direction that appeared to actually go anywhere and passed through a door, taking some more stairs up and finding himself in a bar of sorts. There was a security camera that Jack took care of on instinct, not noticing that it didn't actually trill at him. To his left, Jack could see an elevator, to his right, some more stairs, and in front of him, a door that was locked. Pondering his options for a moment, Jack decided to try the stairs first.

Two more flights of stairs later, Jack found himself in a storage room of sorts and looked around. Nothing of interest in-- Jack's attention was suddenly caught by an alcove near the back of the room, somewhat hidden by some shelves. Walking over, Jack found a few more stairs that led to an area blocked off by a gate. Tilting his head a bit, Jack walked up to the gate and saw some movement inside before he heard Cohen's voice, coming both from his radio and from inside the room.

"How could you possibly think I would meet with my public now? When I'm preparing? Unbelievable!" Cohen shouted, a slow grin spreading across Jack's face as he looked at the gate keeping him from getting back on track. It looked flimsy enough.

Grabbing the gate with both hands, Jack gave a test tug and the metal bowed a bit. Smile moving right on up to a grin, Jack yanked with considerably more effort and was rewarded by the metal giving way easily, allowing Jack access to the room Cohen was hiding in. Ignoring the now-cowering man in the bunny mask once he actually got in the room, Jack looked around and brought his fist down on the first machine that he couldn't put a name or possible purpose to. His radio gave a burst of static and Jack let out a slow breath when Atlas' voice came through.

"Ah, there you are, boyo." He said, sounding relieved and just a tad annoyed. "What happened?"

"I found Cohen." Jack said, his eyes slowly finding the shocked-looking man in the corner of the room. "He blocked the frequency you use but I fixed it."

"You-- that gate-- h-how--" Cohen stammered, choking on a gasp as Jack stormed up to him and grabbed him by the throat.

"Shut. Up." Jack snarled, surprising himself with how much anger there was in his voice. In his blood.

"That machine was blockin' more than the radio." Atlas said, almost sounding pleased. "But I can see ya now, boyo." There was a pause as Jack stared Cohen down, his face hard and eyes cold. "What d'you think we should do with _Mr. Cohen_ for cuttin' you off from your dear Papa?" Atlas' tone was almost playful and it calmed some of the storm in Jack's mind, giving him enough control to loosen his grip on Cohen's throat so he could now breathe with less trouble.

"What do you think, Papa?" Jack asked softly, curious to know where Atlas was going with this. That playful tone didn't get whipped out for nothing, after all.

"Think whatcha got goin' there might be good." Atlas replied casually, his voice suddenly quite alot darker when he spoke up again. "Squeeze the life outta that bunny, lad."

Jack and Cohen's eyes both widened and Cohen raised his hand, Jack instinctively catching the hand and breaking it easily with a squeeze. Cohen screamed and Jack couldn't decide if the sound was lovely or annoying. Cohen _did_ have a nice voice despite the blasphemy he spewed with it.

"Good boy, Jack." Atlas breathed, making Jack shiver lightly. No voice compared to Atlas' voice, though, Atlas' voice was _perfect_ in every way. "Go ahead and break the other one too. Don't want him gettin' any more ideas about teleportin'."

"No! No, not my--" Cohen started, Jack cutting him off by tightening his hold on his neck. Though Cohen started to struggle, Jack caught his other hand and broke it easily, the older man's body convulsing in a scream he couldn't get past his constricted throat.

"Y'know," Atlas said slowly, something of a thoughtful hum in his voice. "Cohen and Ryan were awful close back in the day." Jack gave an interested hum in response and reached up to yank Cohen's rabbit mask off, tossing it aside and loosening his grip just enough to allow Cohen to pull in some ragged breaths between sobs of pain. "We wouldn't want Ryan to miss this, would we, boyo? Think right about where that there desk is would be the perfect angle for the camera to see everythin'."

Glancing to the side, Jack gave a nod. "Good thinking, Papa." He hummed, using a weak blast from Sonic Boom to clear the desk before easily lifting Cohen up and slamming him down on his back on the desk. Jack then straddled Cohen's hips, the desk giving a creak from supporting both of their weight but holding up well enough. "How's this, Papa?"

"That's just perfect, lad." Atlas practically purred, Jack starting to flush a little as it occurred to him that Atlas might just be getting off on this. "Now, give his neck a wee squeeze for me." And that time Atlas' voice _was_ a purr, a soft, seductive rumble that wrapped around Jack, making him feel warm and making everything narrow down to the hand around Cohen's throat and the voice coming from his hip. He squeezed, just enough to drag a whimper out of Cohen's abused throat, not quite cutting off his air again, just making breathing difficult.

"What a pretty picture you are, boyo." Atlas sighed, making Jack flush fully and beam a little despite the foul mood he'd been in since the last few minutes he'd spent in Arcadia. "Both hands now, nice and slow."

Locking eyes with Cohen, Jack obeyed, adding his other hand to the mix and tightening them both slowly. Cohen's eyes were wide and afraid and even though both of his hands were completely unusable and likely causing him extreme amounts of pain, he tried his damnedest to get Jack off of him. Eventually his struggles began to slow, his eyes rolling back into his head, and Jack loosened his grip just enough to allow Cohen to pull in a few desperate lungfuls of air before he was squeezing again.

While Cohen cried and struggled anew, Jack watched him closely, thinking hazily about how the scene probably would've bothered him greatly not that long ago. Cohen hadn't really done anything to deserve this, after all. He'd blocked him from Atlas and spoken some unflattering words about him, but that realistically far from warranted being slowly strangled. No matter how Jack turned it around in his head, though, he found he didn't feel bad. In fact, he felt pretty damn good. When Cohen's struggles slowed again, the radio on Jack's hip gave a crackle of static and Atlas spoke up.

"Finish him." It was a whisper, a hiss, and it didn't entirely sound like Atlas but Jack was sure that was just because of all the blood rushing in his ears. He'd never killed someone as intimately as this and it was-- well, it was intoxicating. It was a powerful, heady feeling to be literally holding someone's life in his hands. Still, Jack wasn't one to disappoint and he was even less one to disobey, so he squeezed all the tighter, Cohen's neck giving quickly due to Jack's immense strength and his twitching stopping shortly after.

Pulling his hands away, Jack sat back slowly, letting out a slow breath and looking to the camera trained on him. "Think Ryan enjoyed that?" He asked quietly, getting a chuckle from Atlas and smiling a bit himself.

"Don't think Ryan understands true art enough to appreciate what you just did." Atlas replied, a smile in his voice. "But I certainly did. Well done, boyo."

Smiling more, Jack got off of Cohen and the desk. "Thanks, Papa." He mumbled happily, starting to pat down the dead man's coat in search of a key or a code or something that would let him call the bathysphere back. Jack found a large, odd almost-key, not unlike the key he'd had to get from Steinman, in Cohen's breast pocket and nothing else of note.

"Ah, Cohen's genetic key. That's just the ticket ya need to get back on track." Atlas said while Jack was examining the key. "Just take it down to the bathysphere dock and stick it in the machine with all the switches and buttons."

"Got it." Jack confirmed, leaving Fort Frolic quickly, but not before impaling the other spotlight with an icicle and flipping it off, and making his way back to the dock. He was surprised by the lack of Splicers on the way back and even moreso by the lack of Splicers inside the docking area. Jack was so used to Splicers popping out of **nowhere** to fill in the areas he'd _just_ cleared that having that not happen was a bit jarring. Still, Jack put the key into the machine Atlas had described and only had to wait a couple minutes for the bathysphere to show back up.

Climbing aboard, Jack sealed the door up and pulled the lever. He sat down on the velvet cushions while the bathysphere moved smoothly through the sea and decided to indulge in a cigarette during the calm moment. The next stop was the most important one of all, after all, and Jack doubted he was going to have any time to relax in Hephaestus. Not until Ryan was out of the way, anyway. Jack snuffed out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe as the bathysphere stopped and he took a deep breath before exiting. It was time to finish this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S TOO SHOOORT!!! NO!!! MY WORD COUNT!!!
> 
> Also, Cohen didn't deserve all that. I like Cohen. But, and all the other writers out there will sympathize with me on this one, I have very little control over my characters. I am but a vessel they tell their story through. So, when Jack went "I'm gonna strangle that bit" my only choices were "the fuck you are" *furiously rewrites the entire chapter trying to force a different outcome* or "yeah, seems fair" *sullies my hands morosely*


	10. Fort Frolic Fontaine PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fontaine is an unwell individual but at least he's aware of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Sander Cohen
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Sadism, Non-Consensual Breathplay, Murder Kink, Masochism, Orgasm Denial, Daddy Kink, Possessive Behaviour, Broken Bones, Strangulation, Murder, Smoking

As Jack exited the bathysphere, Fontaine spoke up, the nicotine and Eve buzzing away in his brain affording him enough calm to make his voice come out nice and normal. "You're almost there. The sphere to Ryan is on up ahead." He informed, getting a nod from Jack and smiling a bit at how well he was acting like nothing odd had happened inside the bathysphere. Fontaine opened his mouth to say something else and the radio crackled noisily, cutting him off. He eyed the small device, waiting for Ryan to dig a few more inches of dirt out of his grave, but nothing else happened.

"Ryan's handed the keys to Fort Frolic over to a guy named Sander Cohen." Fontaine said, deciding the static must've just been Ryan hacking back in. It was weird he didn't have anything to say, Andrew Ryan **always** had something to say, but maybe he was just trying to be stealthy, maybe hoping to catch "Atlas" and Jack in the middle of something he could use against them. "Some say Cohen's an artist. He's a Section Eight, I say. I've seen all kinds of cutthroats, freaks, and hard cases in my life, but Cohen, he's a real lunatic. A dyed-in-the-wool psychopath." Fontaine said, hoping to instill a kind of shoot-first attitude in Jack towards Cohen so nothing funny even had the chance to happen between them.

It wasn't that Fontaine didn't trust Jack, it was that he didn't trust anyone. Ever. That's how he'd lasted so long even with his constant poking of the proverbial bear. When Jack didn't respond, Fontaine located him on the monitors and frowned when he was greeted by Jack standing still. What was the kid doing? After waiting a bit, Fontaine pulled the radio closer and tried not to sound annoyed. "Boyo?" He tried, frowning when all he got was the low hum of static for his efforts.

Looking back up, Fontaine realized the timestamp on all the monitors showing feeds from Fort Frolic weren't moving. Seriously!? This wasn't the time for technical difficulties! Groaning in frustration, Fontaine got up from his desk and went about the fairly time-consuming task of unplugging and reconnecting all of his monitors. Once that was done, Fontaine went back to his desk and felt his stomach drop. "No signal". Every single monitor that _should_ have a perfectly fine Fort Frolic feed now had a grey screen informing him there was no signal.

Snatching the radio, Fontaine pulled it close to his mouth. "Jack, can you hear me, lad?" He asked, barely managing to keep his tone somewhat pleasant on the off chance the kid answered. He didn't though. Slamming the radio onto the desk perhaps harder than he really should have, Fontaine glared angrily at the monitors. _Cohen_. He probably should've known he wouldn't want to be spied on, that he'd cut the feeds once he had Jack in his clutches.

Huffing, Fontaine fell back into his chair. Well, nothing to fucking do for it now but wait. He supposed he just needed to hope the kid could get the problem cleared up on his own. Preferably without getting tricked, coerced, seduced, or otherwise convinced into hitting the sack with Cohen. Just the thought made Fontaine want to wring both of their necks. Deciding he needed a distraction, and that without his guidance Jack was gonna be awhile, Fontaine pulled the files filled with Suchong's reports on Jack from his cabinets and started reading them. If he was gonna be stuck waiting, he might as well wait productively.

After half an hour, Fontaine had learned some things worth noting. Jack did indeed have reinforced bones but apparently that was more of an accidental byproduct from him being almost entirely made of Adam, not because Suchong had meant for them to be that way. The height and sheer bulk Jack had reached by the time he'd been shipped off hadn't been expected either. Apparently it was the original plan that Jack would be strong but that it wouldn't show that way he'd blend in with real people. Jack's body had said otherwise. There was simply too much muscle for it not to show. That was also why he was so inhumanly strong. He was never meant to be as strong as he ended up being.

Basically, what Fontaine had learned was that he'd spent a whole hell of alot of money for a series of happy accidents that had given him the perfect sleeper agent. Honestly, he wasn't even mad. He wanted to be, but it had all turned out so well that he just couldn't be. Suchong would still get his statue but maybe Fontaine would hold off on sainting him since Jack's insanely good looks were all his own doing, not Suchong's.

It was while Fontaine was sitting mildly amused by his own thoughts that the radio sitting neglected on the desk gave a sharp crackle of static. Looking up instantly, Fontaine practically threw his files aside and snatched up the radio when he saw Jack on one of the monitors that had previously been without a signal. "Ah, there you are, boyo. What happened?" He asked, tone mostly relieved but also showing just a bit of the annoyance he'd felt earlier.

"I found Cohen." Jack said, his voice disturbingly calm. "He blocked the frequency you use but I fixed it." Fontaine couldn't remember Jack ever using that voice. He sounded like everything was fine but Fontaine knew he couldn't possibly be that okay with Cohen having cut them off from eachother for half an hour. He **had** to be pissed.

Before he could reply, Fontaine barely heard Cohen saying something from the corner he was pressed into. Jack practically flew across the room and grabbed the older man by the throat, snarling at him to shut up. Ah, there was the Jack Fontaine knew and loved. Smiling to himself, Fontaine leaned back casually in his chair. "That machine was blockin' more than the radio." He said, rather pleased at being right but trying not to sound it. "But I can see ya now, boyo." There was a brief pause as Fontaine pondered something, but then he spoke up again, his tone coming out almost playful despite himself. "What d'you think we should do with _Mr. Cohen_ for cuttin' you off from your dear Papa?"

"What do you think, Papa?" Jack asked, the softness of his voice a stark contrast to his rigid, aggressive body language.

"Think whatcha got goin' there might be good." Fontaine replied casually, a grin splitting his face and his tone going darker when he spoke again. "Squeeze the life outta that bunny, lad." He ordered, grin growing when Cohen raised his hand to try teleporting away and ended up with a broken hand for his efforts. For all Cohen's flaws, he had a nice voice, and the scream he let out as his hand was shattered was just lovely. "Good boy, Jack." Fontaine breathed, eyes glued to the screen broadcasting Jack and Cohen to him. "Go ahead and break the other one too. Don't want him gettin' any more ideas about teleportin'."

"No! No, not my--" Cohen started to protest, his words cutting off with a choking sound. He tried to keep his hand from Jack, but Jack wasn't one to be dissuaded by a bit of wiggling and some jerky movements, so he caught the hand and broke it just like the other one. Cohen convulsed like he wanted to scream, but it seemed the kid's grip wouldn't let it out. For some reason, that was even hotter than getting to hear Cohen scream again and Fontaine had to let out a slow breath.

"Y'know," He started slowly, thoughtfully, as a nasty idea started to form in his head. "Cohen and Ryan were awful close back in the day." He informed, scanning the room briefly as Jack hummed in interest. When his eyes returned to them, Cohen was without his mask and Fontaine grinned an ugly sneering grin at how pathetic he looked with tears streaking his stupid, tacky face paint. "We wouldn't want Ryan to miss this, would we, boyo? Think right about where that there desk is would be the perfect angle for the camera to see everythin'."

After briefly examining the desk in question, Jack nodded. "Good thinking, Papa." He hummed, clearing the desk with a blast from Sonic Boom before roughly transferring Cohen over. Jack then surprised the hell out of Fontaine by straddling Cohen. _Fuck_. Why was that so hot? "How's this, Papa?" Jack asked, not breaking from staring Cohen down.

Snapping out of his horny confusion, Fontaine looked at the new setup and grinned anew. Oh yeah, the new angle was _much_ better. "That's just perfect, lad." Fontaine practically purred, some of his arousal bleeding into his voice. Well, not like Jack didn't already know he was fucked up. "Now, give his neck a wee squeeze for me." He rumbled seductively, deciding to lean into the fact that he was very much enjoying the show. When Cohen whimpered, Fontaine knew Jack was obeying.

"What a pretty picture you are, boyo." Fontaine sighed, knowing that even if nothing else about this got the kid going, some praise would do the trick. Jack liked being on the receiving end of praise just about as much as Fontaine did even if the praise they enjoyed receiving was very different. "Both hands now, nice and slow." He ordered, idly rubbing the bulge in his slacks as he watched Jack.

Despite the fact that there was no getting out of this for Cohen, he was trying desperately to use his mangled hands to shove Jack away. Fontaine couldn't imagine the amount of pain he must be in and the absolute fear he must be feeling, but he sure as fuck tried to. When Cohen started to slow down, Fontaine squeezed himself, getting a light surprise alongside his jolt of pleasure as Jack loosened his grip enough to allow Cohen a few desperate gulps of air before tightening his grip again.

Oh, and wasn't that just fucking _delicious_? Jack was definitely into this. Releasing himself, Fontaine leaned forward a bit, really trying to burn Cohen's expression of fear and agony into his mind for later use. He'd never liked Cohen, too eager to jump on Ryan's dick every chance he got. The literally jumping on Ryan's dick was understandable, even he'd a taste of Ryan once upon a time, the man, for all his own **numerous** flaws, was handsome and even charming when he wanted to be, after all. No, it was Cohen's constant singing of Ryan's praises and sugar-coating of his bullshit that Fontaine couldn't stand.

When Cohen's struggles got weak again, Fontaine pulled the radio close. "Finish him." He hissed into it, volume going a little too low to fully conceal his actual voice but if Jack noticed, he made no indication. Fontaine had learned the kid was real good at writing off his little slips anyway, so it didn't fucking matter.

Just like he always did, Jack obeyed, his fists visibly tightening until their was a satisfying, glorious wet crunch and Cohen stopped moving. Letting out a slow breath, Fontaine leaned back in his chair. A part of him thought he should probably take care of the raging hard-on he'd been sporting on and off since Jack's little show in Langford's lab, but another part of him, probably the broken part, which was probably the majority, honestly, liked the way it hurt. The pressure that couldn't relieve itself and the aching strain. It hurt in the best way possible.

"Think Ryan enjoyed that?" Jack asked, looking right at the camera and smiling when Fontaine laughed. There was no real way of knowing if Ryan had seen what Jack had done, but Fontaine sure fucking hoped so.

"Don't think Ryan understands true art enough to appreciate what you just did." Fontaine replied, smiling and lighting up a fresh cigarette. "But I certainly did. Well done, boyo." He praised, smile only growing as Jack practically beamed while he climbed off the desk.

"Thanks, Papa." He said happily, searching Cohen's pockets and finding a genetic key. The kid was turning it around in his hand and really examining it and Fontaine decided that was fair. Genetic keys were a purely Rapture form of security and it wasn't Jack's fault he couldn't remember all the times he'd seen Suchong and Tenenbaum use them around him, making this one feel like only the second one he'd ever seen.

"Ah, Cohen's genetic key. That's just the ticket ya need to get back on track." Fontaine said, letting out a breath of smoke as Jack perked right up. "Just take it down to the bathysphere dock and stick it in the machine with all the switches and buttons." The control panel, but it just seemed easier this way.

"Got it." Jack said, getting a move on and making Fontaine choke on a lungful of smoke trying not to laugh when he randomly flipped off a spotlight he'd just impaled with an icicle. What the fuck had happened while he wasn't able to see the kid to make him decide flipping off an inanimate object was necessary?

Deciding quickly that he didn't actually care enough to ask, Fontaine leaned back in his chair and simply watched as Jack pushed the key into the control panel. The 'sphere took a couple minutes to emerge from the ocean and Fontaine found himself surprised by how still Jack was while he waited. Fontaine himself was a fidgeter, always had been. It was part of the reason why he kept himself well stocked with cigarettes. They were good for keeping his hands busy and they were accepted under just about any circumstance so they helped him keep from fidgeting during the exceedingly boring meetings he'd had to sit through once upon a time.

That he'd need to sit through again once Rapture was his. Suddenly those meetings didn't seem so bad. He'd gone too long without sitting down with like-minded individuals to plot or scheme and that's basically all board meetings were. Fontaine schemed and plotted just fine on his own, of course, but after all the time he'd spent by himself waiting for Jack's return, he'd just about had enough of his own company. Which was saying alot since he absolutely adored himself.

Regardless, Jack was sealed up in the bathysphere now and making his way to Hephaestus. Everything was on track and on schedule and while Hephaestus would no doubt be the roughest challenge Jack had faced so far since that was knocking on Ryan's door, right now it felt like smooth sailing and smooth sailing felt good. Even the kid was relaxing, all stretched out on the seats of the 'sphere and smoking.

When the bathysphere slowed to a stop, Jack snuffed out his cigarette and Fontaine let out a short sigh, getting his game face back on. After years of plotting and waiting, it was finally time to take Ryan out. Jack exited the bathysphere and Fontaine made double sure that everything on his end was functioning properly. One last gauntlet to run through and they'd be there. It was finally time to finish this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Fontaine chapter that's actually SHORTER than a Jack chapter!? What!? Blasphemy!!!


	11. Hephaestus Jack PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has finally reached Hephaestus, Andrew Ryan's backyard. It's now time to take Rapture for Atlas or sleep with the fishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Atlas, Jack, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Murder, Non-Explicit Child Murder, Drug Use, Obsessive Behaviour, Vomiting, Psychological Torture, Panic Attack, Emotional Breakdown

"Watch yourself, boyo. We're right in Ryan's backyard now. We best keep to our knittin' or it'll be curtains for the both of us." Atlas warned as soon as Jack had fully exited the bathysphere. The serious tone really hammered home the importance of this final step in their mission and Jack did his best to clear his mind of everything but the task at hand as he made his way up some stairs. "Ryan's got the genetic key to Rapture. We get that from him and we run this hellhole. We don't, then you and I are ghosts."

"Don't worry, Papa, I won't let you down." Jack assured, moving with purpose through a door into one of the many glass walkways connecting Rapture. He went left down the split in the path and found it didn't matter when he made it to the point where both paths clearly reconnected. Just as Jack was taking out the two Splicers he'd found where the paths connected, his radio crackled to life again.

"I see Cohen's lost his touch. If you knew him when--" Ryan paused, making Jack raise an eyebrow. Was that some emotion slipping into Ryan's voice? Perhaps a hint of sadness? Was he capable of that? "--when he used to believe in the work, in the struggle. And now, he rots in that neverland of his." Something akin to a sigh, Jack tried not to feel too good about how much Ryan was affected by Cohen's death. "Just as well. My city will be better off without men like him. Unhinged and past their prime. Rapture is only for those who still have something to add to it."

There was the Andrew Ryan Jack was used to hearing. The cold bastard who only cared for his precious fucking fishbowl. While Ryan had been giving his little speech, Jack had taken care of two Splicers and a turret and was currently making his way through a large room full of control panels that he didn't pass too close to. Up ahead a security camera whirred and clicked and Jack readied his wrench, lobbing it at the machine as soon as he turned the corner. It shattered spectacularly and Jack collected his wrench before moving on.

A short hallway later and Jack was stopped by the sight of a room with a high ceiling supported by thick pillars. Held up against each and every pillar by a thick rivet was a corpse, rotting and sagging but still held firm. Jack walked a little further into the room and looked around warily, finding himself surprised to find there was no life in the room. Not a single Splicer; just the people, yes, people, not Splicers, riveted to the pillars around the room.

"A worm looks up and sees the face of god. But look around, it's a regular convention of worms in here." Ryan said, voice almost teasing. "They all had families, friends, people who loved them. They got married, fucked their spouses. What makes you think you're any different?" He continued, a thoughtful hum in his voice that made Jack's skin crawl a little. "I haven't chosen a spot for you on the wall yet. Let me know if you have a preference."

Deciding not to bother responding, Jack moved on, walking past the corpses and to the door that indicated the office of Andrew Ryan was just beyond. There was a pedestal with a lever that connected to what Jack assumed were locks on either side of the door. When he tried to grab the lever, the jolt of electricity he got actually hurt. After frowning down at the lever for a moment, Jack got an idea and sparked his hand up with Electro Bolt before grabbing the lever.

It worked. Grinning, Jack pulled the lever down only to be rejected once again. It simply clicked loudly and flipped back into place. Shoulders slumping a bit as he realized it wasn't going to be that easy, Jack left the lever and went into the conjoining room off to the side, hoping to find something helpful in there. Sure enough, there was an audio diary that detailed what exactly Jack needed to do to get the door open. Unfortunately, he didn't understand a word of it, something he shared with the woman who'd made the diary. Luckily, she'd provided him the solution to that as well. His next destination was Heat Loss Monitoring.

Just as Jack was leaving the room, Ryan spoke up. "How like all parasites who ever tried to walk in stolen shoes." He sneered, Jack just knew he was sneering, his voice dripping with contempt. "I'd explain the science that renders what you're trying to do impossible, but that would be like playing Mozart for a tree frog."

It took until after Jack had dealt with a sudden influx of Splicers between him and the door he now needed to get through to realize what Ryan had said and he frowned down at his hip. "You know, I've gotten pretty far for someone you're so fond of insulting." He said as he kept walking, just as sure that Ryan could hear him as he was that he wouldn't get a response. As far as he knew, Ryan still wasn't exchanging words with him directly.

"It's your brawn and Atlas that have gotten you this far." Ryan replied, shocking Jack into stopping in a flooded room with a dead Big Daddy and two Splicers that he'd just finished killing. "You've the mental capabilities of a pinecone. That's why Atlas is always so desperate to get this feed back from me. He knows you can't do this on your own."

Jack laughed. He wasn't sure why, it just sort of slipped out. A sudden little peel of genuinely amused laughter as he kept moving, walking through a glass hall and through a door labeled "Hephaestus Core". "A pinecone, huh?" He asked quietly, voice oddly calm. And yes, when he thought about it, he did feel calm, even a little amused. Jack paused only briefly to look at the massive namesake of the area that the balcony he'd walked out onto gave him the perfect view of. "Better a pinecone than a sitting duck, I guess."

As Ryan scoffed condescendingly at him, Jack kept moving, passing the balcony and entering into a large multi-leveled area. Just ahead there were two Splicers fighting a kind of Big Daddy Jack had never seen before and he resolved to stay out of the way for the moment. "Rapture is coming back to life." Ryan said strongly, not sounding affected even a little by Jack's comment. "Even now, can't you hear the breath returning to her lungs? The shops reopening, the schools humming with the thoughts of young minds? My city will live. My city will thrive!" He declared, the noise from his hip drawing the attention of the Splicers fighting the Big Daddy only for the Big Daddy to take the opportunity to fuck them both up with its drill. "And, when that day comes, we'll use your tombstone for paving tiles." Ryan finished darkly, dragging another little laugh from Jack.

"Right." Jack said, hitting the Big Daddy with a strong shock from Electro Bolt as he walked up to it. He gripped its drill while it convulsed and used a foot planted against its face as leverage to heave with all his strength, ripping the drill right off with a bit of sustained force. The Big Daddy came out of its electricity induced convulsions to wail in, presumably, pain and Jack tossed the drill up in order to spin it around. Before the hulking beast could recover enough to attack, Jack used his considerable strength to stab the drill through its face, killing it instantly.

The wailing Little Sister went next and Jack moved on while he ate his slug, finding he barely noticed the wiggling as the slug went down his throat. Jack went for the only path available to him which happened to be down some stairs, passed up a security camera that he promptly destroyed, and walked down yet another flight of stairs before making it to the door to Heat Loss Monitoring.

This glass hallway had a leak that Jack had to press himself against the wall of the hall to avoid. He'd gotten seawater on himself when he'd first arrived and had to climb through the piece of airplane that went through that one hall and it had been absolutely frigid so Jack wasn't eager to get anymore seawater on himself if he could avoid it. Once Jack made it through the hall, he found himself in a room littered with corpses. They already looked ransacked so Jack left them alone, continuing down the hall until the lights flickered off and Jack heard the unhinged laughter of Splicers in front of him.

Just as Jack was readying a massive burst of fire from Incinerate, the lights came back on. Nothing moved right away so Jack pressed on, keeping his guard up and his fire ready. When the lights blinked off again, Jack let the fire he'd readied loose, having not noticed due to how focused he was that the room had quite a few tanks of gas and barrels of oil in it. The chain reaction was spectacularly destructive. Jack had managed to light the Splicers that were toying with him on fire, he knew because they were now screaming and lighting up the room as they ran around, but the burst also instantly super-heated the tanks and barrels around the room and they began to burst quickly, sending shards of white-hot metal shrapnel flying in all directions.

Using a few careful bursts of Sonic Boom, Jack managed to redirect most of the shrapnel towards the Splicers in front of him, but he felt himself get scratched in several places and let out a cry as a piece of shrapnel lodged itself in his stomach. The lights clicked on shortly after the last tank had stopped exploding and by then, Jack was bleeding quite alot and the Splicers were actually dead and not just pretending. After quickly locating the source of the radiating pain in his stomach, Jack removed the piece of metal, letting out another cry, and quickly injected himself with a Quik-Heal.

Covering the wound as it stitched itself up, Jack pressed on. It hurt, but he didn't have time to waste on waiting for it to heal. He could deal with a little pain. "Imagine the will it took to create a place like this." Ryan said as Jack walked down some stairs just past the door he'd just gone through. "And what have you built? Nothing. You can only loot and break." He said, his voice full of contempt yet again. If nothing else, Ryan made it easier to muscle through the pain. Jack couldn't wait to knock that pompous jackass out. He was even more excited to see the look on Ryan's face when he realized he was going to be kept alive so his two least favorite people could enjoy tormenting him for awhile. God, it was going to be glorious. "You're not a man, you're just a termite at Versailles." Ryan finished, Jack almost not catching it from how lost in his thoughts he was.

"A termite now, huh?" Jack asked, his voice still a bit strained from pain. His wound had stopped bleeding and was likely almost entirely healed, but the pain would be the last thing to fade. Jack had learned that after using Quik-Heal enough times. The pain was always the last thing to fade. Ryan didn't answer and that was just as well, Jack was currently using Winter Blast to a fill a Big Daddy who'd just helped a Little Sister down from one of their holes with icicles.

Once it was thoroughly impaled and quite dead, Jack got his prize and only had the slug halfway choked down when he had to deal with a Splicer who'd been playing dead near the stairway he needed. In his surprise, he simply punched the Splicer, his fist still frozen with Winter Blast. The punch dazed the Splicer and froze a patch of her skin, giving Jack enough time to freeze her properly and then shatter her with his wrench. Huffing through his nose, Jack finished off his slug with a final slurp, the wriggling creature having been hanging halfway out of his mouth, and moved on.

There were two more Splicers playing dead in the room Jack needed and he decided to use Incinerate on these ones, turning them into charred husks and then shooting up with an Eve hypo as his stores ran too low. After a bit of searching, Jack found an audio diary with something useful on it and was directed to the Workshops he'd passed up on his way to Heat Loss Monitoring. Sighing a bit, Jack started to head back the way he came. That was inconvenient. Hopefully whatever he needed was actually in the Workshops area and not in wherever he might _pass up_ trying to get there.

"Before the final rat has eaten the last gram of you, Rapture will have returned." Ryan said, almost sounding casual as Jack headed back towards the core. "I will lead a parade. _Who was that?_ they'll say, as they point to the sad shape hanging on my wall. _Who was that?_ "

"Right, very pleasant, _Andrew_ , thank you." Jack muttered sarcastically, putting the brattiest possible emphasis on Ryan's name. For some reason, Ryan just brought out his inner teenager. Not that he'd been that bratty as a teen. He'd been-- actually, Jack couldn't really remember. For some reason, his teen years were blurry when he tried to recall anything about them. Actually, alot of his surface life was blurry when he tried to think about it. Why? Had he really been down here that long? Surely not. Surely it hadn't been more than a few days **at most**. Was it because he hadn't slept since before he arrived?

Before Jack knew it, he was walking down the glass hall on the way to Workshops and Ryan was interrupting his train of thought. "A man builds a city at the bottom of the sea, that's a marvel. Another man happens to be on a plane that crash lands on the same city in the middle of the ocean? Why, that sounds more like-- a miracle." He said, his tone almost conspiratorial, making Jack frown. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Jack's arrival in Rapture had just been convenient. That-- but it **was** convenient, wasn't it? **Really** convenient. Of all the wide, wide ocean to crash land in. And to be the only survivor.

Shit! No! Focus! He needed to focus! Ryan was just trying to throw him off his mission! Shaking his head hard, Jack picked up the pace, finding himself in a room with several shelves. There were some suspiciously placed desks behind the shelves so Jack went over to investigate, not sure exactly how he'd gotten to the room since he'd been so lost in thought but figuring he should just take advantage of being in the area. Sure enough there was a door to a crawlspace hidden behind the desks and Jack crawled through, finding himself in a hidden little workshop.

To his left, there was an intimidating device, and to his right, a table with some med-kits and an audio diary. Playing the audio diary while he collected the med-kits, Jack's eyes traveled back to the device. A bomb, apparently. A bomb meant to, after some fancy jargon Jack didn't understand, open up the door to Ryan's office. All he needed was some ingredients. They sounded easy enough to get, but Jack didn't actually know what "R-34 lead shield wire stubs" or "Ionic Gel" were so that might make things a little more difficult.

When Jack's radio crackled and it was Atlas instead of Ryan, Jack actually jumped. It suddenly occurred to him that Atlas had been silent since he'd arrived and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of his voice. "Well, the Nitroglycerin should be easy enough to get since it's just down the hall in his office." Atlas said, his voice instantly melting away all the tension in Jack's body and making him forget all about what Ryan had him stressing over. "You can get those wire stubs from all them Big Daddies lyin' around and Ionic Gel is those yellow bottles with the blue labels scattered about. Should only take a couple to make a half-can."

Letting out a slow sigh as he let Atlas' voice wash over him, Jack crawled back through the entrance to the workshop, noticing a Big Daddy corpse in the corner of the room. Had he done that while he'd been distracted? No, there was no Little Sister, so it hadn't been him. "Got it. Thanks, Papa." He said, the gratitude probably coming out more earnest than what was strictly necessary from Atlas' point of view.

"'Course, boyo." Atlas replied, sounding slightly amused. "Sorry I been so quiet, by the by. I been makin' sure my family's settlin' in alright, gettin' 'em ready for what's comin'. I heard Ryan pushin' your buttons, though. You holdin' up alright?" Atlas' soft, concerned voice made Jack's heart twinge even as he caved in the skull of a Splicer that had just entered the room while he was hunting down the wires he needed from the Big Daddy's corpse.

"I'm alright, Papa. He's just been threatening me and spouting nonsense. Nothing I can't handle." Jack guaranteed, finding the office Atlas had mentioned and noticing the destroyed turrets guarding the locked door. Yeah, he'd definitely done that. There were also a couple of dead Splicers nearby. He'd likely done that too.

"That's my boy." Atlas said proudly, the praise and tone making Jack's chest swell. Fuck, maybe Ryan _had_ been affecting him. It felt damn near euphoric to have Atlas' gentle voice praising him after spending so long listening to Ryan belittle him. Atlas had been busy though, and it made perfect sense that he was rallying his family and making sure everyone was ready for what was to come. It was almost time to take Rapture from Ryan, after all, and they'd need all hands on deck for everything that would come once the city was Atlas'. Still, Jack was a selfish man, and even as he understood why he'd gone, he'd missed his Papa.

If he looked around for a bit, Jack was sure he'd find the code to get the door open. There was a faster way, though. Cocking his fist back, Jack punched the middle of the doors where they met and managed a dent big enough to get his fingers between the two doors. Gripping one door in each hand, Jack heaved and the doors slid open a bit. He heaved again and they slid open enough for him to squeeze through sideways. Slipping between the doors, Jack used his back to give another heave and got the doors to come apart enough that he could fit through properly.

Shaking off the fist he'd punched the door with, Jack used his other hand to smack down the tripwires hanging all over the office. He found what he assumed was the Nitroglycerin since it was protected by a locked glass case. Well, he'd need to ice his knuckles anyway. Punching the glass, Jack got the charge and put it carefully into his pack, leaving the office afterward and using Winter Blast in his other hand to ice the one he kept using to punch things after taking a moment to pick out a couple pieces of glass that had lodged in his hand.

"Y'know, there was probably a button or switch somewhere that would've opened that case." Atlas hummed, sounding slightly amused.

"Yeah." Jack muttered, smiling a little at his own brashness and pausing to put one of the bottles that Atlas had mentioned in his bag. "Guess I'm just feeling punchy." He left the Workshops and started to make his way back to the Core, knowing he'd left some Big Daddy corpses around there and seen some Ionic Gel bottles lying about as well.

"Just don't go bloodyin' up your knuckles too badly." Atlas said, his amusement darker now and his tone making Jack's heart skip. Ryan had been right about one thing, Jack couldn't have ever done any of this without Atlas. "You still got a very important face to beat into a bloody pulp, after all."

"I could plow through a thousand Splicers with my bare hands and never be too tired or bloody to deal with Ryan." Jack guaranteed, finding two more wire components in the Core area and another can of Ionic Gel. Just as he was thinking he'd need to head all the way back to that one room outside Ryan's office with the dead Big Daddy in it, he heard the tell-tale stomping footsteps of a live one nearby. One last bundle of wires fresh from the source coming right up.

Atlas let out a laugh as Jack traced the sound of the Big Daddy's footsteps to the source. "Oh, I believe it, boyo." He said happily, making Jack smile as he used Incinerate on a few Splicers on the way to the Big Daddy. He finally found the beast watching over a Little Sister as she gathered from a corpse who was laid out conveniently between a Gatherer's Garden machine and Power to the People station.

Pondering over his arsenal, Jack decided to go with a classic. Breaking a large, pointy rock from the roof of the Core area, Jack took aim and pierced the Big Daddy through with it, being careful not to damage the part of its body where he'd found the wires on the last three Big Daddies. The Little Sister barely had time to wail before Jack was dispatching her as well and then he went to work getting the wires from the Big Daddy while he swallowed down his slug, not even noticing the squirming anymore.

Once the wires were secure in his backpack, Jack got an upgrade for his grenade launcher and then upgraded Electro Bolt and Incinerate to what the machine called their "Level Three" versions. He would've gotten an upgrade for Telekinesis since that one was his favorite, but apparently it didn't get any more powerful. On the way back to the Workshops, Jack tested out his upgraded Plasmids and found they were definitely worth all the Adam he'd paid for them.

It now took the same amount of Eve to unleash a devastating bolt of electricity or blast of fire as it had taken to get a much weaker bolt or blast going before. Jack was going to need to relearn how to get a small blaze going with Incinerate for lighting cigarettes now or risk burning down whatever room he was in when he wanted a smoke, but that was a small trade-off. After using a few more very unfortunate Splicers as test dummies, Jack made it back to the bomb and put it together carefully, following to the letter the blueprints that were on the workbench. If this didn't work it would be because it was never going to work, not because he put it together wrong.

Double checking the blueprints and the bomb once everything was in place, Jack nodded to himself. "Once it's finished you gotta put it on the core past Geothermal Control." Atlas informed while Jack pondered how to transport the massive device. He could carry it easily, but he needed at least one hand free to deal with Splicers and carrying the bomb in one arm, while entirely possible, seemed too reckless. "Then we'll see if these needlenoses knew what the hell they were talkin' about."

"Right." Jack said, suddenly getting an idea and fishing his sweater from his pack. Slipping the sweater over the bomb, Jack stretched the bottom and tied it off. He then used the arms of the sweater to tie the bomb to his back, deciding it felt sturdy after a few test pulls and exiting the workshop. As soon as Jack passed the first camera outside the workshop, Atlas started laughing and it felt so nice to hear it that Jack didn't even care that it was probably because he looked ridiculous.

"Points for creativity, boyo. That's one way to do it." He said after his laughter had died down enough to allow him to speak.

Laughing softly, Jack shrugged, proving the usefulness of his bomb carrier as he plowed through a fresh wave of Splicers trying to keep him from getting to Geothermal Control. "Had to keep my hands free and it wouldn't fit in my pack." He explained getting to the door to Geothermal Control with minimal effort.

"No, no, it's clever." Atlas assured, getting serious as Jack walked into a flooded area with massive pipes flowing with lava and two turrets that were quickly destroyed. "Looks like the ocean's got an itch to retake this corner of Rapture." He hummed, voice sounding a little further away as he continued. "Hang on a tick, I'll see what I can dig up to help."

"Thanks, Papa." Jack replied, exploring the room and finding a healing station in one corner of the room. Humming softly, Jack inserted the required amount of money and stuck his wrist under the opening like the little picture underneath the money slot showed. He got pricked by a needle and felt the familiar rush of whatever was in a Quik-Heal entering his veins. Sure enough, all his little scratches and his still-swollen knuckles started healing and Jack hummed again. Convenient. Why hadn't he ever noticed these before?

"I'm no engineer, but if I read these plans right, you can channel that magma flow using the redirect valve." Atlas informed, voice close once again. "It'll boil off that water right quick, and you'll be able to reach the core. Ryan's sure to take notice, of course. Be ready for whatever he might throw at you, lad."

"I think I have just the thing." Jack said, using Winter Blast to build up two thick walls of ice in front of the doors that led into the room. "That oughta hold off any company."

"Sharp as ever, boyo. Get crankin', now." Atlas said, sounding eager and making Jack smile.

Before he got turning, Jack tested the give of the wheel and carefully adjusted how much force he could use to turn the wheel without breaking it. While he worked up a rhythm, Ryan spoke up again, Jack finding he had definitely not missed **that** voice. "Will these creatures kill you? Even I don't know." He said, sounding oddly resigned. "As you drag me closer to the abyss, you pull yourself right along with me. I offer you a quick death, parasite. It will be preferable to what you will learn if you win."

Doing his best to ignore Ryan and focus on turning the wheel, Jack started to hum to himself. It was some tune he'd heard crackling over a radio or phonograph somewhere. He didn't know the name or any of the words or even if he had the tune right, but whatever it was, it was helping him focus and keeping him calm as he heard the sound of Splicers trying to get past the ice he'd set up. Before he knew it, the wheel clicked to a stop and refused to turn any further. Jack looked up and saw the lava drop from the tubes, steam filling the room as it evaporated the water below.

Unfortunately, the steam was enough coupled with the insistent Splicers trying to get in to make the ice walls brittle and Jack quickly refocused on killing the Splicers that now stormed the room. Once nothing but Jack moved in the room, a light ding sounded behind Jack and he turned to see the elevator leading to the lower area he'd just cleared of water was open and ready for a passenger.

"Good job, boyo. Just a little further now, we're almost there." Atlas urged, Jack deciding to skip the elevator and just jump the railing to the lower level. The elevator would take longer and Atlas was right, they were **so close** now. Hurrying past the walkway that was a very interesting texture from the rapidly cooled lava he was now walking over, Jack practically jogged down a stairway and was just passing through a door when Ryan spoke up again.

"So far away from your family," He started slowly, Jack stumbling as the picture of his parents from his wallet flashed briefly in his mind. Shit, not this again. "from your friends, from everything you ever loved." Jack moved a bit slower as Ryan spoke, not wanting to wipe out from tripping if something Ryan said triggered more of those weird flashes. "But, for some reason you like it here. You feel something you can't quite put your finger on. Think about it for a second and maybe the word will come to you: nostalgia."

Frowning, Jack walked slowly onto the lift in front of the core and pulled the lever that got it moving up. That couldn't be right. You could only feel nostalgic for a place you'd been before. He'd never been to Rapture, he couldn't have. What was Ryan trying to do to him?

"What did Atlas offer you?" Ryan asked, calm tone from just a moment ago replaced with that usual sharp contempt Jack was used to from him. "A piece of my plundered city? Mark my words: your only reward will be a knife in the back."

"A kni-- really?" Jack asked, smacked right out of his mental turmoil by the sheer absurdity of Ryan's words. "For someone who holds himself in such high regard, you sure are stupid." He sighed, shaking his head as he fished the bomb from his sweater and set it up, hitting the button to turn it on and moving to the far end of the lift. "I trust Atlas with my life and he trusts me. He would never betray me after all we've been through together."

Before Ryan could respond, assuming he was going to, which he realistically probably wasn't, the bomb went off, Jack covering his ears at the loud explosion and the even louder sounds of the core shorting out. He backed up further, back pressed against the gate still locked behind him and watched as parts of the core started to break off. With every massive piece of machine that fell to the ground, the whole room shook and Jack was glad he was no longer standing on the lift as it swayed and bobbed from the force of the shakes. With everything else going on, Jack barely noticed the gate sliding open as an alarm started blaring overhead. He did notice, though, and hurried out of the gate, taking off running towards Ryan's office with the sound of propellers whirring in the distance.

"Christ!" Atlas swore loudly from his hip, making Jack nod in agreement as he ran through halls and doors. "Hopefully all that did the trick. Only one way to find out, I suppose." It felt weirdly good to hear Atlas still so focused on the mission despite what Ryan had just been saying about him. The last time Ryan had called Atlas' loyalty into question, Atlas had felt the need to discuss it, after all. Now, he was acting like it hadn't happened, like it was as silly as Jack had brushed it off as being. It really made Jack feel like Atlas understood his complete and unwavering trust in him.

Once Jack arrived in the room with the switch that needed flipping, he found the cavalry waiting for him in the form of about two dozen Splicers and enough security bots buzzing about to be a real distraction. Finding himself quickly overwhelmed given there was still an alarm blaring overhead, Jack started to glow. As his heart rate got faster and he desperately avoided getting hit by fireballs from the Houdinis in the room, he glowed all the brighter.

Everything came to a head when Jack tried to use Incinerate. Like a star going supernova, heat blasted outwards from Jack, scorching everything in the room and leaving Jack doubled over on the floor, panting and shaking and feeling like he might be about to throw up. Luckily, the security alert had ended and now that everything in the room looked like a bomb had gone off in it, Jack could afford to take a minute to catch his breath.

Vaguely, he could hear someone shouting something, but that only served to make Jack realize his ears were ringing and when he tried to get up, he actually did puke. It was primarily blood and Jack did his best not to land in it when he fell backwards. Working as quickly as his shaking hands would allow, Jack stabbed himself in the stomach with a Quik-Heal, noting dimly how he didn't even feel the needle go in, and then shot up with an Eve hypo.

After a little more panting, Jack's hearing returned and his vision stopped swimming. His stomach settled and he could suddenly feel his body again, feeling that he was sore as hell but also feeling that he could probably move now. Moving more slowly, Jack got up and while he wobbled a bit, he managed to stay upright. Letting out a shaky breath, Jack made his way to the switch and flipped it, the doors sliding open anticlimactically with a loud click. Or maybe it just seemed loud because everything else was so quiet.

"Fucking Christ, Jack. Did you know ya could do that?" Atlas practically whispered from Jack's hip, his voice forcing another shaky exhale from Jack as he shook his head.

"No." He said softly, finding his throat was dry and that talking sort of hurt. He tried to work up some saliva as he walked through the bulkhead to Ryan's office and cleared his throat before trying to speak again. "I don't think I'll be doing it again if I can help it." That got a slight laugh from Atlas and Jack managed a weak smile, stopping in his tracks as the lights in the room he was now in dimmed and a television in front of him came on, showing Ryan's face.

"Even in the book of lies, sometimes you find truth. There is indeed a season for all things." Ryan said, Jack taking the moment to look around the room for anything useful. "And now that I see you flesh-to-flesh and blood-to-blood, I know I cannot raise my hand against you. But know this: you are my greatest disappointment." Pausing, Jack frowned at the television nearest him. So? Why should he care if Ryan was disappointed in him?

"Does your master hear me? Atlas!?" Ryan continued while Jack stood there, confused and still frowning. "You can kill me, but you will never have my city! Andrew Ryan offers you nothing but ashes!" Uh-oh. That didn't sound good. It did manage to snap Jack out of his confusion, though. "My strength is not in steel and fire, but in my intellect and will!! That is what the parasites will never understand. A season for all things: a time to live, and a time to die. A time to build, and a time-- **to destroy!** "

With that final extraordinarily dramatic declaration, the televisions cut off and the room started to shake, the lights coming back on but flashing red. "Ryan's set the core to self-destruct!" Atlas shouted, sounding panicked. "This is different than what you did, he's got a mind to take down the whole damned city! Get in there and whack the chump before the whole joint blows!"

"Fuck." Jack breathed, running up the stairs to the door to Ryan's office and quickly slotting his fingers around one half of the slightly ajar door. Adrenaline causing him to unleash his full strength, Jack ripped the door right off the frame and threw it aside, not having time to do anything but keep moving. That idea was quickly trampled to death when Jack darted into the room beyond the door and saw something that stopped him in his tracks.

"Would you kindly" was written in red on a large corkboard absolutely covered with papers. It had some pictures connected with red string and as Jack followed the strings, his brow furrowed enough to give him a headache. There was Ryan and a woman, a Jasmine Jolene according to her picture and a poster off to the side advertising her as "Andrew Ryan's favorite gal", connected by a string and then connected to-- to him. A picture of Jack himself. It was grainy as though it had been taken with a camera of significantly lesser quality than the others had been taken with, but Jack recognized his messy hair and the collar of his sweater coming up his neck.

His picture was also connected to Tenenbaum of all people and that made about as much sense as his picture being connected to Jasmine Jolene's. Jack could sort of understand why he was connected to Ryan's picture, but-- And there was a man he'd never heard of, he was sure of it, but whose name nagged Jack as both terribly familiar and just terrible in general. Perhaps the most odd picture, Frank Fontaine. The mobster guy everyone was apparently so afraid of. The one he thought was interesting.

None of this made sense. How was he connected to **any** of these people let alone **all** of them? Jack's eyes were drawn to some audio diaries scattered on the table in front of the corkboard. With a shaking hand, and why was he shaking, he didn't even know what all this meant, why was he so bothered, Ryan was probably just crazy, he pressed play on the first diary.

"That creepy Dr. Tenenbaum promised me it wasn't gonna be a real pregnancy, they'd just take the egg out once Mr. Ryan and I had-- I needed the money so bad. But I know Mr. Ryan's gonna suss it out, gonna know I wasn't being careful, gonna know I sold the-- Mr. Ryan's gonna be so mad at me." A woman said, sounding afraid and sad. Jack looked up, following the line connecting Tenenbaum to Fontaine and then the line connecting Fontaine to Jasmine Jolene.

"Advanced Deployment, Lot 111. Dr. Suchong. Client Fontaine Futuristics. Baby is now a year old, weighs one-hundred-fifty-eight pounds, and possesses gross musculature of a fit, nineteen-year-old. The results are-- disappointing, but within expected tolerances." A man said, Jack's brow furrowing all the harder. His temples were throbbing and his mind felt like it was going to implode. What did this have to do with him? Surely not-- it couldn't be-- but then why else--

Jack's body moved while his mind raced, playing the next diary. He was greeted by the sound of a dog barking and the voice of the man from the last diary. "Is that your puppy? She's very pretty."

"Thank you, Papa Suchong." A little boy replied, bile rising instantly in the back of Jack's throat.

"Break her neck for me."

"What?"

"Break that sweet puppy's neck."

The boy started to cry, Jack was frozen, unable to stop the tape even as his mind screamed at him to do so. "No. Please."

"Break that puppy's neck-- would you kindly."

Flinching hard, Jack closed his eyes, his hands flexing, performing the command on a puppy that wasn't there. The little boy on the tape started to sob, begging "no" over and over but-- a snap. Covering his mouth, Jack forced his eyes open, looking up again at the wall in front of him through eyes swimming with tears, at the string that connected Suchong to him. Why was he crying? This-- this couldn't be true. He-- there had to be another explanation.

"We're putting all the bathyspheres in lockdown until further notice. Ryan had us install some kinda genetic device into the things so only Ryan and his inner circle will be able to use 'em without dispensation. But the boys tell me the keys are pretty unreliable. Sisters, cousins-- anybody in the ballpark, genetically, will be able to come and go as they see fit." Jack flinched again. Had he turned that one on? He couldn't remember hitting the button. He was alone, so he must've. He-- wait.

No, that couldn't be right. He-- he wasn't the **only** person who could use the bathyspheres, Atlas had-- Atlas. Where was Atlas? Why was he so quiet? Jack needed to hear Atlas' voice, to hear his Pap-- no! That was wrong! He-- Atlas couldn't be his Papa, not after he'd called-- But-but it hadn't been **him** , it-it had been some kid. He wasn't that kid. He couldn't be that kid. It didn't--

"All those years we thought we were making progress with our Skinner boxes and our electric shocks. What a waste of time. Until Adam, you could no more domesticate a child than a boa constrictor. Fontaine gives Suchong history for child that he wants to imprint into child's head. Kid not a person, he jukebox, ready to play whatever tune Fontaine wants to hear."

He was hyperventilating now. Who kept hitting play on those fucking diaries!? He-- the string connected Fontaine to Suchong and a string connected Suchong to him but there was no string connecting Fontaine to him directly. Who was the upside-down person? Why did it matter? What did this mean? He couldn't remember the faces of any of his friends on the surface.

The thought startled Jack and he braced his hands on the table, leaning over and trying to remember how to breathe. Where was Atlas? He couldn't remember the color of the wallpaper in his room in his house on the surface. _Where was Atlas?_ He couldn't remember his parents' first names. **_Where was Atlas?_** Why couldn't he remember the little things!? Where had the memories gone!? What was happening to him!? _**WHERE WAS ATLAS!?**_

Shoving back from the table, Jack scrabbled for the radio on his hip, pulling it to his lips desperately. "A-Atlas?" He choked, tears pouring from his eyes and his throat feeling like he'd gargled glass. "Atlas, please pick up!" Jack waited, Rapture trembled, the radio remained silent. "Atlas, please!" He screamed, gasping when there was a voice.

"Come now, my child. There is one final thing to discuss." Ryan said calmly, his voice shifting all of Jack's confusion and pain into bitter rage. This was all Ryan's fault! All these bad feelings that he didn't have names for, all these holes he couldn't fill, Ryan had caused all of this!

Gritting his teeth so hard he almost cracked a few of them, Jack stormed out of the room and into Ryan's office. He was going to kill him! Forget capturing him, forget taking his time, forget all of that, he was going to fucking kill him! As soon as he caught sight of Ryan, nothing but a large window separating them, Jack broke into a run, fully intending to go barreling through the glass.

"Would you kindly stop?" Ryan asked calmly, tapping a golf ball he'd just teed up with his club and watching it sail smoothly across the little golf course in front of him and into the hole. Thanks to his momentum, Jack went tumbling forward the moment his legs locked up. He rolled a bit and ended up in front of the window, panting heavily, mind swimming around the words he couldn't even bring himself to think that had made him freeze up like a deer in headlights.

"So, now you've learned the truth." Ryan said calmly, teeing up another ball instead of looking at the broken man he was addressing. "You think you have memories. A farm," Jack's home on the surface flashed by in his head, making him flinch and cringe away from the window. "a family," Ryan continued, undisturbed by how Jack cringed again, another image, that damn picture, flashing by in his head. "an airplane," Jack was in a chair, he had a cigarette, and a gift-- "a crash," Water. Fire. Cold. Can't breathe. **Can't breathe.** "and then this place." Ryan finished, Jack shaking like a leaf on the floor, curled in on himself protectively while he listened, unable to do anything else.

"Was there really a family?" Jack's mind supplied him with a picture of an infant sitting on a table, connected to wires and looking miserable, Suchong and Tenenbaum standing off to the side. "Did that airplane crash, or was it hijacked?" The gift. A note. Those words. A-- a gun. In his hand. "Forced down. Forced down by something less than a man, something bred to sleepwalk through life until activated by a simple phrase from their kindly master?" Jack was sobbing again, he couldn't stop, everything was too much.

Suddenly Ryan was in front of him, staring down at him dispassionately. When had he left the room beyond the glass? Jack hadn't-- "Sit up, would you kindly?" Ryan asked, Jack obeying instantly, still shaking and sobbing and unable to remember how exactly he was supposed to pull air into his lungs, but sitting up. "Would you kindly." Ryan hummed, admiring the golf club in his hand rather than spare Jack a glance. "Powerful phrase." He finally looked at Jack, his eyes as cold as the ocean they were surrounded by. "Familiar phrase?"

No! No, no, no, not again! "Would you kindly pick up that shortwave radio?" No! Not Atlas! Please! "Would you kindly find a crowbar or somethin'?" Anyone but Atlas! Make it stop! Ple-- "Would you kindly lower that weapon for a minute?" No-- "Would you kindly tell me what's wrong?" Please-- "Would you kindly loosen up a bit, boyo?"

As if he was able to tell when exactly the flashes ended by the way Jack hiccuped on his latest sob, Ryan carried on. "Stand, would you kindly?" He asked, using the head of his golf club to guide Jack to his feet. If it weren't for those words Jack still couldn't even think, he wouldn't have been able to; his everything was trembling so badly. "In the end, do you know what separates a man from a slave?" Ryan asked calmly, not waiting for an answer as he removed the golf club from under Jack's chin.

"Money? Power? **No.** A man **chooses** , a slave obeys." Ryan explained, looking at the club in his hand and seeming to consider it for a moment before turning his eyes back to Jack, who was wide-eyed and still trembling but at least the sobbing had subsided. "Was a man sent to kill me, or a slave?" He asked, tilting his head and offering the club to Jack.

Without thinking, because thinking was currently hard and hurt and maybe if he just did what was expected of him, the pain would stop, Jack took the club. Once he had it though, he couldn't wrap his mind around what to do with it.

"Do as your master Atlas has commanded you to, slave. Kill me." Ryan commanded, staring Jack down despite the fact that Jack was taller than him.

 _Atlas_. Something pulsed in Jack's mind. _Atlas_ , his Papa. No. Yes. Everything was wrong, and that wasn't right, but it was so, _so_ close and Jack **needed** it and Atlas-- Atlas hadn't wanted Ryan to die. Jack hadn't wanted Ryan to die. That-- this wasn't the plan. Slowly, Jack's head turned to the golf club in his hand and then it was being super-heated by Incinerate, a puddle of molten metal forming beside Jack. This was wrong. **Everything** was wrong. But Atlas was close to right. **Almost** right.

Ryan was saying something but Jack didn't hear it. He could breathe again. The shaking had stopped. Everything was clear even though it still hurt and Jack looked at Ryan, seeing his mouth forming painfully familiar words even though he couldn't hear them. Before Ryan could get those words out, Jack had him by the throat, his grip careful, tight enough to choke, not tight enough to break, a delicate balance he could maintain if he tried.

Jack dimly recognized the pressure of fingernails being dug into his skin and realized Ryan was gripping his forearm though not quite struggling. He checked and rechecked his hold, making sure it was just enough. Ryan's face started to turn blue and eventually his grip went slack. Jack let him fall to the floor then, rifling through his pockets almost on auto-pilot and taking the key he found further into the office.

There was a big machine. It looked promising. Walking over, Jack found a slot and slid the key in. The machine was making noise, Jack knew that, but he couldn't hear it. Backing away until he hit a wall, Jack slid down, folding in on himself and wrapping his arms around his legs. He was starting to shake again, but at least he could still breathe and at least everything was still quiet. The silence was so nice. Jack closed his eyes.

How long had it been since he'd felt tired? Jack heard Atlas' voice faintly and it made him smile a little, his face buried in his arms. That was nice. He'd missed Atlas' voice. He'd missed Atlas. The quiet made the pain stop and then there was nothing but quiet. It was nice. This was nice. Still not right, but close, so _so_ close. Jack passed out.


	12. Hephaestus Fontaine PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The author is a bad, naughty bastard man who hurts the ones he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Sadism, Daddy Kink, Murder, Smoking, Drinking, Drug Use, Possessive Behaviour, Psychological Torture, Emotional Breakdown, Panic Attack

"Watch yourself, boyo. We're right in Ryan's backyard now. We best keep to our knittin' or it'll be curtains for the both of us." Fontaine warned, adding a certain severity to his tone to highlight the importance of this final, crucial part of the mission. He was sure Jack already understood the importance of being right on Ryan's ass, but one could never be too certain about anything in his line of work. "Ryan's got the genetic key to Rapture. We get that from him and we run this hellhole. We don't, then you and I are ghosts."

"Don't worry, Papa, I won't let you down." Jack assured, moving with purpose as he walked. Fontaine was slightly annoyed at himself for how hard it was to resist the urge to tell the kid he knew that. This wasn't the time to let Jack get complacent with compliments, though. This was, one way or another, going to be the hardest part of their mission and Jack needed to stay on his toes.

Flipping a switch on the radio, Fontaine made it so he could hear Jack but Jack couldn't hear him. He needed to make sure his people were ready to move on the parts of Rapture that Fontaine needed cleared as soon as possible and Jack didn't need to hear all that. Especially if he had a slip. His people were remarkable at striking the right nerves to get Fontaine yelling and it was hard to keep up with the current fake personality if he was angry enough to yell.

Just as he was reaching over to pull the radio for the first team over, Ryan decided to take advantage of the maybe two minutes of silence that had passed. "I see Cohen's lost his touch. If you knew him when--" Ryan paused, making Fontaine grin. Ryan might not have shown it, but Fontaine had sources, and he knew for certain that Ryan and Cohen had been _very_ close back in Rapture's heyday. "--when he used to believe in the work, in the struggle. And now, he rots in that neverland of his." He paused again and Fontaine allowed himself a moment to revel in the joy of knowing that Ryan was hurting. "Just as well. My city will be better off without men like him. Unhinged and past their prime. Rapture is only for those who still have something to add to it."

Yes, yes, save face. Heaven forbid the god-king of Rapture show a little fucking emotion. Sighing softly, Fontaine pulled the first radio close. He couldn't wait to get Ryan alone so he could fucking break him. "Connors. Report." He ordered into the radio, keeping up the "Atlas" voice just in case. He wasn't going to risk Jack somehow catching him using the wrong voice. Not when they were so close.

"Supplies are fully stocked and my guys are ready to go."

"Alright. Move on your zone." Fontaine ordered, flicking the radio back to the same setting Jack's was on and pulling the next one close after glancing over to make sure Jack was doing alright and seeing that he was just getting to Ryan's trophy room. Speak of the devil; Ryan's voice coming through Jack's radio stopped Fontaine from getting ahold of Wesker.

"A worm looks up and sees the face of god. But look around, it's a regular convention of worms in here." Ryan said, voice weirdly playful. It made Fontaine's sphincter clinch to hear that tone coming from Ryan's mouth. "They all had families, friends, people who loved them. They got married, fucked their spouses. What makes you think you're any different?" He paused, likely trying to get Jack thinking on that and second-guessing himself. "I haven't chosen a spot for you on the wall yet. Let me know if you have a preference."

Glancing at the first monitor that showed Jack's face, Fontaine was surprised by the lack of response from the kid. He was really in the zone if nothing Ryan had said had gotten him even a little ruffled so far. _Atta boy._ "Wesker. Report." Fontaine ordered, cutting the pride he was feeling at Jack from his tone easily.

"We're runnin' mostly wit'out firepower but our other supplies are good."

"Think your people can handle takin' your zone without the firepower?" Fontaine asked, making a note that her team might need backup.

"Prolly. We'll radio for backup if we can't." Wesker replied, sounding sure.

"Move out, then." Fontaine ordered, flipping the switch and grabbing the next radio. A new voice coming through Jack's radio distracted him from getting to Darling and Fontaine looked over to his monitors to find Jack staring in confusion at an audio diary. When he focused on what the diary was saying, it made Fontaine snicker to himself. Ah, engineering jargon, definitely not for the uninitiated. Fontaine understood the gist of what the dame was saying, but Jack looked completely lost, bless his stupid fucking heart.

The dame on the diary didn't know what the hell she was talking about, either, but luckily she **did** have a place to start figuring that out. Jack, of course, got moving the moment he had some direction again. The kid would probably never understand what a sympathetic overload was, but he knew how to take directions.

"How like all parasites who ever tried to walk in stolen shoes. I'd explain the science that renders what you're trying to do impossible, but that would be like playing Mozart for a tree frog." Fontaine raised his eyebrows at the fucked up, but accurate, burn and looked to Jack for a reaction, but he didn't look all that offended. Sighing deeply, Fontaine shook his head. Fuck, kid, you could at least _try_ to make it harder for people to insult you.

Oh! Yeah, there it was. Jack got it. It took him way too long, but he finally looked offended, he was glaring at the radio on his hip and everything. Jesus Christ. "You know, I've gotten pretty far for someone you're so fond of insulting." Jack replied, sounding surprisingly calm for someone taking frequent peltings from the king of sass himself. Like Ryan needed another fucking thing to be king of, but still.

Just as Fontaine was going to get back to dealing with his people, Ryan surprised the hell out of him by actually responding to Jack. He hadn't exchanged words with the kid since Jack's little threat in Mariana. "It's your brawn and Atlas that have gotten you this far. You've the mental capabilities of a pinecone. That's why Atlas is always so desperate to get this feed back from me. He knows you can't do this on your own."

The only thing that surprised Fontaine more than Ryan actually rising to Jack's challenge was the way Jack just laughed his words off and kept moving. It sounded so genuine, too, like he really thought Ryan was funny. Fontaine wasn't sure if he should be concerned or proud, but apparently Jack wasn't done yet. "A pinecone, huh?" He asked quietly, sounding so calm that Fontaine easily decided on concerned. "Better a pinecone than a sitting duck, I guess."

 _Ohhh!_ Fontaine had to cover his mouth to keep from snorting even knowing that no one would hear it. He knew he should keep working, but this was beautiful. How could he really pass up on eavesdropping on probably the only thing that could ever be considered father-son bonding time for the two Ryans? And now that he thought about it, he was **not** looking forward to dropping _that_ particular bomb on the kid. _"Oh, by the way, Ryan, you know Ryan, he's your **actual** papa, like, biologically."_ Yeah, no. Fuck that.

Ryan's condescending scoff pulled Fontaine from his thoughts. "Rapture is coming back to life. Even now, can't you hear the breath returning to her lungs? The shops reopening, the schools humming with the thoughts of young minds?" He questioned, quickly moving on and working himself into a typical Ryan frenzy. "My city will live. My city will thrive!" Then he got real quiet and Fontaine, despite himself, was waiting with baited breath. "And, when that day comes, we'll use your tombstone for paving tiles."

Nodding a bit, Fontaine decided he approved. He preferred to keep his mementos around, but recycling them was just as fucked up. Not a bad move all in all.

"Right." Jack replied after a laugh, not sounding all that impressed. Then he went to work on an elite Bouncer model Big Daddy and Fontaine practically started salivating as he watched the kid rip the damn thing's drill right off its arm and fucking toss it in the air like it weighed nothing before stabbing the beast with it. _Fuck_.

Shaking his head, Fontaine turned away before Jack could turn his attention to the nearby wailing Little Sister and finally got around to the next team. "Darling. Report." Fuck, it was hard to pronounce a hard ending "g" in "Atlas'" voice. He ended up slurring the "a" into an "e" to achieve it and it sounded just terrible overall. Fontaine couldn't wait until he could go back to talking like himself again.

"Locked, loaded, and ready to move on your command, boss."

"Good. Get movin', then." Fontaine replied, adding a checkmark to that team and glancing at the other seven names he still needed to touch base with. Flipping the switch on the radio, Fontaine set it aside and grabbed the next one. After another glance up to make sure Jack was okay, he flipped the switch. "Summers. Report."

"Our zone was bad for guns. Candy's team has a surplus so he agreed to meet with ours. We're just waiting on the go from you."

Appreciating to no end how Summers actually acted like a leader, taking initiative and shit, Fontaine went ahead and added a checkmark to her name. "Advance to the meetin' point, I'll get Candy movin'." As Summers was giving him the customary "yes, sir", Fontaine set her radio aside and pulled Candy's over. "Candy. Summers told me about the situation. You're clear to move."

It was only Candy's status as one of his best that made Fontaine ignore the grumbled "finally" that came before a chipper "yes, sir". Switching the radio, Fontaine looked up just in time to see Jack set off a chain reaction of explosions in the room he was in. Well, that was probably bad. The only camera in the room was damaged by the blast and while Fontaine felt a slight burst of panic, he decided to hold off on calling the kid. Something had to warrant all that, after all, it wouldn't do to go distracting Jack.

Then Jack screamed and Fontaine swayed a bit in his chair. It was like music. The explosions stopped shortly after and Jack screamed again. Ah. He must've gotten pierced by something, a Spider hook or some explosion shrapnel, likely. Fontaine finally caught sight of Jack when he started going up some stairs. He was a little scraped up and there was quite a bit of blood on his stomach, likely where he'd gotten hurt enough to scream, but he was still moving. Fuckin' trooper.

"Imagine the will it took to create a place like this." Ryan started, cutting through the relative silence. It was impossible to get actual total silence in Rapture. There was always a machine going or a leak trickling, something to fill the void. "And what have you built? Nothing. You can only loot and break. You're not a man, you're just a termite at Versailles." Honestly, Fontaine preferred the humming of machines or the trickling of water.

"A termite now, huh?" Jack asked, the pained tinge to his voice making Fontaine hum a bit. Now, **that** was a pretty sound. **That** could fill the void of Rapture's brand of silence any day. Ah, but Ryan didn't answer, and Jack was now busy turning a Bouncer into an icicle pin-cushion, so Fontaine took that as his cue to keep dealing with his crew.

"Jackson. Report." He ordered, starting to tap the pen he was holding idly on the desk. It was then that he realized he hadn't had a cigarette in more than ten minutes and silently vowed to figure out a healthier way to deal with the fidgeting once his empire was settled.

"Supplies are good, we're right rippin' to get rollin'."

After staring at the radio in front of him for a bit, Fontaine let out his first pull of cigarette smoke. Who taught you how to talk? Then again, he supposed he was one to talk about blatant abuse of the English language. "Right. Get goin', then." At least he understood the "right-o, boss" he got in return. Shaking his head a bit, Fontaine couldn't help but smile. At least she wasn't boring.

Giving his customary glance over at the monitors, Fontaine almost inhaled his entire cigarette. Jack was currently in the middle of killing a Splicer. No big deal, nothing different or odd there. He still had half of one of those fucking slugs hanging out of his goddamn mouth! It was still moving! He just had it **dangling** there!

Yanking his cigarette from his mouth, Fontaine turned from the monitors and tried to get ahold of himself. It was one thing watching the kid eat the damn things, it was fucking disgusting, but he lived. It was another to watch him **enjoy** the nasty, squirmy little fuckers. That was crossing the line. The line had been chewed up, spit out, pissed on, and shot about a mile in the opposite direction of "okay" when Jack started holding them in his mouth like fucking lollipops or some shit.

Somehow managing to not retch, Fontaine ran a hand through his hair and took a long drag of his cigarette. Okay, he was okay. He-- no, he needed a drink. Reaching over his files while pointedly avoiding looking at any of his monitors, Fontaine filled up his discarded cup with bourbon and drank about half in one go. Okay! **Now** he was okay. Sighing lightly, Fontaine pulled the next radio close.

"Viktor. Report." He ordered, finding his voice was a little more on edge than he would've liked. God help him if anyone ever found out how much he fucking hated those goddamn Adam slugs. He'd probably give up **every** secret he'd ever vowed to take to his grave to keep one of those fucking things from getting anywhere near his mouth.

"My girls are ready to move, boss."

"Your supplies are good then?" Fontaine pressed, finding it easier to forget about Jack being disgusting now that he was dealing with business.

"Feh. Supplies are fine." He huffed back, sounding annoyed.

Rolling his eyes, Fontaine shook his head a bit. " _Sure._ Get movin', then. And for fuck's sake, radio it in if you need help." There was some grumbling in Russian that Fontaine didn't quite catch before an equally grumbled "will do". Close enough. Fontaine had always gotten the idea that Viktor didn't like taking orders from someone who was both younger and physically smaller than him, but he knew better than to do more than sass Fontaine occasionally, so Fontaine allowed the sass. Fear-mongering and the occasional temper tantrum aside, he was actually a pretty forgiving employer.

Another new voice coming from Jack's radio pulled Fontaine's attention once again and he tuned-in in time to hear Jack get some new directions from another audio diary. The kid sighed like he was annoyed and when Fontaine thought about it, he realized it was likely because he'd literally _just_ passed up Workshops to get to Heat Loss Monitoring. You'd think the kid would be used to getting dragged all over Rapture for even the simplest of missions, but Fontaine supposed that could also be part of the frustration. Get forced to go out of your way enough times and you're bound to get frustrated.

"Before the final rat has eaten the last gram of you, Rapture will have returned." Ryan suddenly said, making Fontaine release the dial on the radio he'd been about to tune into in order to eavesdrop on this instead. "I will lead a parade. _Who was that?_ they'll say, as they point to the sad shape hanging on my wall. _Who was that?_ "

"Right, very pleasant, _Andrew_ , thank you." Jack muttered sarcastically, putting the brattiest fucking emphasis on Ryan's name Fontaine had ever heard.

Snickering softly, Fontaine flicked the switch on the next radio. "L'Marr. Report."

"Our stocks are good. We are ready to move."

Even with her thick French accent, L'Marr was better at English than Jackson. "Alright. Move out." Just two more to go and then--

"A man builds a city at the bottom of the sea, that's a marvel. Another man happens to be on a plane that crash lands on the same city in the middle of the ocean? Why, that sounds more like-- a miracle." Ryan hummed, making Fontaine freeze. Oh, hell.

Looking over quickly, Fontaine saw that Jack was still moving, looking oddly unphased by Ryan's words. Sighing in relief, Fontaine shot a quick glare at his radio, pointless as it was, and then got back to his crew. He needed to move this along so he could get back to his Ace. Ryan was gonna end up causing him trouble if he just kept letting him go unchecked.

"Cherry. Report." He ordered, maybe a bit more harshly than he'd meant to.

"Damn, boss! Nearly made me stab myself." Cherry complained, huffing a bit before continuing. "We're good to go. Got lotsa guns and shit. We're practically itchin' to get a move on."

"Well, get goin', then." Fontaine replied, another small smile playing his lips. As nice as it was to be feared and respected, sometimes he liked having spunky people who weren't outwardly afraid of him around. That spunk had helped at least a few of his crew leaders get their position. Alright, focus, last but not least. "Tanner. Report."

"Well stocked and ready to move, sir."

Check. "Move out." Flicking the switch on the final radio, Fontaine took a moment to stretch and then pulled Jack's radio close. Now he could get back to the kid. Checking around the monitors, Fontaine figured out whereabouts Jack was and realized he'd made quite alot of progress since the last time he'd looked up. Maybe Ryan's comment lit a fire under the kid.

An audio diary started playing on Jack's end and Fontaine looked around, realizing quickly that he'd lost sight of him. Then the voice on the diary rang familiar and when Fontaine actually stopped and listened to what was being said, he realized where Jack was. Kyburz's "secret" workshop. Ah, but maybe Fontaine oughta give him a little credit. Kyburz had managed to keep the damn thing secret from Ryan, after all, so he supposed that was secret enough even if far too many people knew where he was going when he disappeared in the back room of the Workshops.

"Well, the Nitroglycerin should be easy enough to get since it's just down the hall in his office." Fontaine chimed in, unable to see Jack but imagining one of those dopey little smiles on his face. "Atlas" had been quiet for awhile, after all, and Fontaine had it on good authority that it made Jack antsy to go without him for too long. "You can get those wire stubs from all them Big Daddies lyin' around and Ionic Gel is those yellow bottles with the blue labels scattered about. Should only take a couple to make a half-can."

Fontaine heard Jack sigh and then finally caught sight of him as he crawled out from behind a few piled-up desks. "Got it. Thanks, Papa." Jack said, sounding _way_ more grateful than he really needed to be. Fontaine smiled. The kid'd missed him.

"'Course, boyo." He replied, not bothering to cut the amused tone from his voice. "Sorry I been so quiet, by the by. I been makin' sure my family's settlin' in alright, gettin' 'em ready for what's comin'. I heard Ryan pushin' your buttons, though. You holdin' up alright?" Fontaine decided to go for some gentle concern as a sort of apology in and of itself for disappearing for so long. It looked like it worked if the little smile on Jack's face while he stripped wires from a Big Daddy and killed some Splicers was any indication.

"I'm alright, Papa. He's just been threatening me and spouting nonsense. Nothing I can't handle." Jack guaranteed, finding Kyburz's office easily.

"That's my boy." Fontaine said proudly, grinning when that made Jack perk up and practically beam. Shit, he'd missed the kid too.

After looking at the locked doors to the office for a bit, Jack apparently decided there was an easier way to get in than looking for the code or trying to pick the lock. He cocked his fist back and just fucking punched them, prying it open afterwards using the dent he'd made. Yeah, Fontaine had missed this. He'd missed this alot. Even when Jack punched the glass case holding the Nitroglycerin charge instead using his wrench or something, Fontaine found himself smiling. Jack was an idiot, but he was **his** idiot.

"Y'know, there was probably a button or switch somewhere that would've opened that case." Fontaine hummed, letting his amusement show as Jack picked glass from his hand and iced his knuckles with Winter Blast. Again, not very smart, but he was resourceful.

"Yeah." Jack muttered, smiling a little and pausing to put a bottle of Ionic Gel in his bag. "Guess I'm just feeling punchy." And who could really blame someone for feeling "punchy" after they'd been talking with Ryan long enough?

"Just don't go bloodyin' up your knuckles too badly. You still got a very important face to beat into a bloody pulp, after all." Fontaine joked, allowing himself a moment to fuck with Ryan indirectly. Death would be a mercy compared to what Fontaine had planned. And that wasn't even to mention whatever Jack had planned. Of course Fontaine would let his Ace have his fun with Ryan after all the shit he'd gone through so far to get at him. He wasn't a **complete** monster.

"I could plow through a thousand Splicers with my bare hands and never be too tired or bloody to deal with Ryan." Jack replied rather seriously, his tone making Fontaine laugh. He didn't even think the kid was acting for the sake of not giving the plan away, he just _really_ wanted to punch Ryan. Again, who could blame him?

"Oh, I believe it, boyo." Fontaine assured, deciding to just stop watching for a bit as Jack came across the last Big Daddy he'd need to kill for wires. There was no way in hell he was going to risk catching Jack with a-- nope, he couldn't even fucking think about it. There were **lines**.

Busying himself with a fresh smoke and a topped-off glass of bourbon, Fontaine waited until he heard the sounds of a Gatherer's Garden machine being used before he looked at the screens again. His relieved sigh was silent when he saw Jack had indeed finished off his latest snack already. Then Jack was making his way back to Kyburz's hidey hole and Fontaine knew immediately what he'd gotten from the Gatherer's Garden. Like Jack wasn't dangerous enough with his Plasmids, he'd gone and upgraded the damn things.

Leaning back in his chair, Fontaine smiled. It was something else having a creature that was so inhumanly powerful under his control. If he dwelled on it long enough, it might even make him giddy. Luckily Jack made it back to the workshop before Fontaine could lose himself and the idea of his beloved dolt putting together a fucking bomb with exactly no supervision or guidance beyond whatever Kyburz had left behind was enough to sober him right up.

After a few minutes of explosion-free silence, Fontaine decided to speak up. "Once it's finished you gotta put it on the core past Geothermal Control. Then we'll see if these needlenoses knew what the hell they were talkin' about."

"Right." Jack said, sounding awfully distracted before Fontaine heard quite a bit of rustling like fabric being moved around. Furrowing his brow, Fontaine waited with baited breath for Jack to emerge and when he did, he couldn't help but start laughing. The kid had made the god damn bomb a fucking carrier! Out of his ugly-ass sweater, no less!

"Points for creativity, boyo. That's one way to do it." Fontaine offered once his laughter had calmed down a bit. Jack laughed as well and gave him a shrug in between killing Splicers.

"Had to keep my hands free and it wouldn't fit in my pack." He defended, smiling despite Fontaine's laughter.

"No, no, it's clever." Fontaine assured, sobering up again when he saw where Jack was. "Looks like the ocean's got an itch to retake this corner of Rapture." He hummed, moving away from the desk to get at his filing cabinets. "Hang on a tick, I'll see what I can dig up to help."

"Thanks, Papa." Ah, Fontaine would never get tired of hearing that.

Finding the papers confirming what he thought about the wheel in the back of the room, Fontaine rolled back to the desk. "I'm no engineer, but if I read these plans right, you can channel that magma flow using the redirect valve." He informed, remembering at the last minute that "simple working man Atlas" needed to have a harder time with bigger words. That was maybe one of the most annoying things about this whole masquerade: having to preface things with "now I'm no" and "if I'm readin' this right" when he knew damn good and well what he was talking about. "It'll boil off that water right quick, and you'll be able to reach the core. Ryan's sure to take notice, of course. Be ready for whatever he might throw at you, lad."

"I think I have just the thing." Jack said, using Winter Blast to build up two walls of ice in front of the doors that led into the room. "That oughta hold off any company." The pride in Jack's voice was fucking adorable. Fontaine wasn't sure if he wanted to ruffle the kid's hair or fuck him against one of those walls of ice.

"Sharp as ever, boyo. Get crankin', now." Fontaine praised, practically able to hear the sound of Ryan wishing he was dead from the very near future as Jack started to carefully turn the wheel in front of him.

"Will these creatures kill you? Even I don't know." Ryan said, sounding actually sort of _resigned_. Oh, and wasn't **that** gratifying? "As you drag me closer to the abyss, you pull yourself right along with me. I offer you a quick death, parasite. It will be preferable to what you will learn if you win."

Oh, fuck. Ryan knew. He'd finally figured it out. Gritting his teeth a bit, thankfully after he'd taken his cigarette out of his mouth, Fontaine pulled his control board close. He was going to need to be ready to get the wave back fast from Ryan if he actually managed to weasel his way into the kid's head. Suddenly Fontaine noticed that Jack was humming something and the nagging familiarity of it surprised him into a momentary calm.

Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe the kid had heard it on a phonograph somewhere or something. Maybe, but Fontaine had hummed that exact tune to Jack once when he was a baby. It was the only time he'd ever held the kid. He'd been bawling, as babies do, and both Suchong and Tenenbaum had been busy, so he'd been designated Jack's nanny for a bit. Tenenbaum had suggested singing to the kid, but Fontaine didn't sing, so he'd tried humming. Jack hadn't even had a name that early on. It'd worked, though. It'd calmed little Jack down real fast. The humming. **His** humming.

Suddenly full of strong conflicting emotions that he'd normally be able to bury, Fontaine had to work hard to get his voice to come out normal once Jack had cleared the water below and dealt with the Splicers that had gotten into the room. "Good job, boyo. Just a little further now, we're almost there." He urged, feeling like he deserved every fucking acting award that existed for how well he masked over the storm of emotions raging inside of him. Fierce protectiveness. A certain possessiveness. Fear. **Strong** fear. God fucking help him, _love_.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Fontaine tried to get ahold of himself. He needed something to even himself out. Nicotine and Eve weren't going to cut it this time. Rummaging around in his desk while Jack moved, Fontaine found his Pep Pills and-- ah-ha! Pulling out a small vile of white powder, Fontaine opened the cap and pulled out a tiny spoonful on the little scoop that was attached. Setting the vile aside, he knocked back a Pep Pill with a swallow of bourbon and then chased it down with a deep inhale of cocaine. If that didn't even him out, no concoction of the drugs left down in this sunken hellhole would.

"So far away from your family, from your friends, from everything you ever loved." Ryan suddenly started, Jack nearly falling on his face after tripping over nothing and then taking his steps a bit more carefully afterwards. What the fuck was up with Jack randomly almost face-planting over nothing? "But, for some reason you like it here. You feel something you can't quite put your finger on. Think about it for a second and maybe the word will come to you: nostalgia."

Much to Fontaine's annoyance, Jack frowned that one frown that meant he was overthinking what Ryan was saying. Fontaine couldn't quite intervene just yet, though. The coke he'd done was setting in and warring with the Pep Pill. He'd need a minute to feel both awake and calm enough to actually offer anything helpful to Jack.

"What did Atlas offer you?" Ryan asked, on the attack now, starting to feel the heat from Jack's nearness, no doubt. "A piece of my plundered city? Mark my words: your only reward will be a knife in the back."

"A kni-- really?" Jack asked, his annoyed, disbelieving tone flipping a switch in Fontaine's brain. "For someone who holds himself in such high regard, you sure are stupid." He sighed, getting the bomb into place as Fontaine grinned slowly. _You tell him, kid._ "I trust Atlas with my life and he trusts me. He would never betray me after all we've been through together." Ah, and he was officially high enough to enjoy that unwavering trust. Thank god for cocaine.

When the bomb went off, it peaked the speaker of the radio and Fontaine cringed at the noise. Beyond that, Fontaine could hear an alarm starting to sound and he couldn't imagine how loud it must be from Jack's end. "Christ!" He shouted over the noise, finally in a proper headspace to offer Jack some words despite the racket going on around him. "Hopefully all that did the trick. Only one way to find out, I suppose."

In the back of his mind, Fontaine thought that maybe he should say something about what Ryan had said to Jack, but he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make him sound guilty. He was sort of hoping that if he just brushed it off, Jack would too. Just crazy old Andrew Ryan being crazy. Worth a shot. He could always do damage control later if that didn't work. _"Oh, what? You bought into that? What happened to all that trust, Jack? Don't you trust your Papa anymore?"_ He'd done more working with less before, he'd figure it out.

A few of the cameras following Jack switched over just as he was rounding the corner into the room he needed and Fontaine's eyes widened. Fuck, that was _alot_ of firepower. The room was **full** of Splicers and flying turrets. For a second Jack looked overwhelmed, but then he ran out of time to do anything but fight for his life. And he did, admirably, but he was clearly out of it. It probably had something to do with the alarm that was still going overhead. Or maybe it was Ryan's words keeping him from fighting as well as Fontaine knew he could.

Quite suddenly it dawned on Fontaine that Jack was-- glowing, maybe? He was definitely getting brighter because he was getting whiter on the monitors. Frowning deeply in confusion, Fontaine watched closely but then had to shield his eyes as Jack fucking exploded. The monitors went so white they lit up the entire dimly lit room Fontaine worked from and when the light faded, Fontaine saw the feeds from that room were completely dead.

"Jesus Christ." Fontaine muttered, realizing that the radio was far too quiet now. "Jack? Jack!? C'mon, boyo, ans--" The sound of retching made Fontaine's jaw snap shut. He was alive. The kid was alive. Letting out a shuddering breath, Fontaine waited until he heard the click and whoosh of Ryan's door opening up and then tried again. "Fucking Christ, Jack. Did you know ya could do that?" He practically whispered, not even really sure **what** exactly Jack had done. He'd never seen anyone do something like that. It had to have been one of the Plasmids, right? Incinerate, maybe?

"No." Jack replied shakily, his throat sounding even more destroyed than when Fontaine had fucked him raw. "I don't think I'll be doing it again if I can help it." He added, finally appearing again as he entered Ryan's office. That got the kid a slight laugh from Fontaine and he caught a small smile on Jack's face despite the obvious pain he was in.

Then the lights in the room dimmed and it was only the cocaine he'd taken earlier that kept Fontaine from throwing something. Not right now, Ryan! "Even in the book of lies, sometimes you find truth. There is indeed a season for all things." Ryan said, his stupid fucking face showing up on some oversized monitors in the room. Jack for his part, bless him, was simply wandering the room, looking for gear, clearly not giving a single fuck about Ryan's ranting. "And now that I see you flesh-to-flesh and blood-to-blood, I know I cannot raise my hand against you. But know this: you are my greatest disappointment."

Ah, but that made Jack pause and Fontaine clenched his jaw. Surely Ryan wouldn't give it away that quickly? He was more dramatic than that. He'd wait until-- fuck, until he had Jack face-to-face probably. Ryan was shouting now but Fontaine wasn't paying attention, too busy in his own head. Would that change anything? Jack didn't have any loyalty towards Ryan and the only obligation he might feel towards him for their blood relation would come from his fake memories and morals. Fontaine was pretty sure "loosen up" had taken care of most of that, so surely not? Surely the kid would still be able to--

"-- **to destroy!** " When Ryan's voice got even louder, it finally broke through Fontaine's racing thoughts and then the emergency lights in the room started flashing. The shaking hit Fontaine shortly after the room Jack was in had started to shake and Fontaine quickly pieced together what was happening.

"Ryan's set the core to self-destruct!" Fontaine shouted, maybe panicking just a little now. "This is different than what you did, he's got a mind to take down the whole damned city! Get in there and whack the chump before the whole joint blows!" Though he miraculously kept his accent from slipping, those words were definitely more Fontaine than "Atlas". So maybe he was panicking a little more than a little, but if Jack didn't get to Ryan on time now, it really would be curtains for the both of them. For everyone, really.

"Fuck." Was Jack's only response before he was running up the stairs to Ryan's office. The door was on the fritz, likely intentionally, but that had never stopped Jack before and it sure as fuck wasn't going to stop him now. He brute-forced an opening by pulling one door completely off the wall and then slipped into the office, Fontaine losing sight of him once he was inside. Ryan had been keeping him out of his office, of course, so it made sense that he couldn't see the kid, but the sudden silence as soon as he was inside was-- concerning, to say the least.

Just as his nerves were going to make Fontaine speak up, a hauntingly familiar voice spoke up after the telltale click of an audio diary being started up sounded. "That creepy Dr. Tenenbaum promised me it wasn't gonna be a real pregnancy, they'd just take the egg out once Mr. Ryan and I had-- I needed the money so bad. But I know Mr. Ryan's gonna suss it out, gonna know I wasn't being careful, gonna know I sold the-- Mr. Ryan's gonna be so mad at me."

 _Shit._ Ryan was making his final play. Snatching the radio from the desk, Fontaine went to tell Jack something, to tell him to get moving, that they didn't have time for this, but he was greeted by a blur of static when he pulled the radio close enough. That was bad. "Jack?" Fontaine tried, practically snarling as he slammed the radio down when Jack didn't respond. Ryan had hacked the goddamn frequency!

Getting to work on his control board, Fontaine listened helplessly to Jack's heavy breathing and the soft click of another diary being played. "Advanced Deployment, Lot 111. Dr. Suchong. Client Fontaine Futuristics. Baby is now a year old, weighs one-hundred-fifty-eight pounds, and possesses gross musculature of a fit, nineteen-year-old. The results are-- disappointing, but within expected tolerances." Fuck. **Fuck!** Ryan had really gone all out this time. No matter how fast Fontaine moved, he couldn't pin down the current fast enough to hack back into the frequency before it jumped.

Shoving back in frustration, Fontaine looked up at the monitors while he tried to think of a different plan and noticed that two of them now showed feeds of Ryan's office. One of them showed him Jack from behind, fully displaying a wall of pictures and papers and-- and Jack's trigger phrase. The other camera, when Fontaine was able to tear his eyes away from the first long enough to look at it, showed Andrew Ryan. In his office, leaning casually against a golf club with one leg crossed over the other, staring up expressionlessly at the camera that was pointed at him.

The smug _bastard_ wanted him to see. Wanted him to know exactly what he was doing. Another click and Fontaine's eyes snapped back to Jack. He heard a dog barking first and his brow furrowed. "Is that your puppy? She's very pretty." Suchong. Fuck.

"Thank you, Papa Suchong." Little Jack replied, Fontaine flinching at the name. He hadn't known Jack called Suchong that. That-- oh, god, that was just--

"Break her neck for me." Fuck.

"What?"

"Break that sweet puppy's neck." Fuck! Turn it off, kid, turn it off!

Little Jack started crying and the actual physical Jack was shaking. "No. Please." He knew what was coming. Fontaine had a feeling both Jacks knew.

"Break that puppy's neck-- would you kindly."

Fontaine flinched almost as hard as Jack did. God damn it! The kid wasn't supposed to know about any of this! The tests were supposed to be sealed in archives, never to be looked at or listened to by anyone but Fontaine himself! How had Ryan even gotten a copy of one of them!? The Jack on the tape, for all his "no"s, did what he was told and the physical Jack looked back up at the wall. He was crying if his breathing was any indication, but his shaky hand was moving, pressing play on another tape.

"We're putting all the bathyspheres in lockdown until further notice. Ryan had us install some kinda genetic device into the things so only Ryan and his inner circle will be able to use 'em without dispensation. But the boys tell me the keys are pretty unreliable. Sisters, cousins-- anybody in the ballpark, genetically, will be able to come and go as they see fit." Once the tape ended, Jack flinched again and looked at it. Fontaine could almost see his face from the angle, the kid looked confused.

God, Jack was shaking so fucking hard, he looked about two seconds from coming apart at the seems, but he still fucking reached for another tape. Fontaine wanted to pull his fucking hair out. To scream at Jack to fucking **stop** already, but he couldn't. Jack wouldn't hear him. Ryan was making sure of that.

"All those years we thought we were making progress with our Skinner boxes and our electric shocks. What a waste of time. Until Adam, you could no more domesticate a child than a boa constrictor. Fontaine gives Suchong history for child that he wants to imprint into child's head. Kid not a person, he jukebox, ready to play whatever tune Fontaine wants to hear." While Suchong spoke, Fontaine looked at the monitor that showed Ryan and nearly punched it. The fucking bastard was _smiling_ now. All small and smug, but Fontaine could fucking see it.

Jack's breathing changed and Fontaine looked over again, shoving away from his desk so hard that his chair spun away from him violently, clattering against the filing cabinets across the room. His kid was hyperventilating, leaning over the table in front of the corkboard and panicking so bad and there wasn't a **fucking thing** Fontaine could do about it! Suddenly Jack shoved away from the table and scrabbled to get his radio unclipped from his belt. Fontaine braced himself, his chest feeling tight and his teeth clenched so hard it was giving him a headache.

"A-Atlas?" Jack choked, still facing away from the only camera Fontaine could see him from. Fontaine could tell he was crying, though. "Atlas, please pick up!" Flinching, Fontaine almost went for the radio but he stopped himself, slamming his hands on his desk. There wasn't any point! He could still see the current moving on the control board. Ryan still had him locked out. "Atlas, please!" Jack begged, a little laugh leaving Fontaine as he began pacing. He was going to make Ryan _so **fucking** sorry_ for this.

"Come now, my child. There is one final thing to discuss." Ryan said calmly, Fontaine's attention snapping to the monitors to see Ryan lowering his own radio from his face, his expression cold once again as he went about casually golfing as though nothing was amiss. Mother **fucker!**

Laughing again, Fontaine ran a hand through his hair and suddenly realized he'd started crying at some point. Another laugh left him and Fontaine couldn't control himself this time, snatching a bottle from his desk and flinging it across the room. It shattered spectacularly on the wall and the only thing that kept Fontaine from continuing was Ryan's voice and the sound of the radio being jostled as though-- yeah, Jack was on the floor now, Fontaine could see him. He could see everything now. Ryan had let him in at some point.

"So, now you've learned the truth." Ryan said calmly, still fucking golfing like the massive smug cunt he was. "You think you have memories. A farm," Jack flinched and Fontaine's heart twisted again. "a family, an airplane, a crash," For everything Ryan mentioned, Jack flinched and cringed as though he'd been stabbed. "and then this place." Ryan finished, Jack now curled in on himself and shaking like a leaf. Fontaine just wanted to fucking hold him. _Fuck_ , this was **killing** him.

When Ryan started talking again, Fontaine decided he couldn't take this. It was dangerous, almost suicidal, to start moving before Jack had taken the city for him, but he couldn't just stand by and watch his kid being broken like this. Turning the radio off, Fontaine clipped it to his slacks and grabbed his pistol from the desk. On the way out of the room, he also grabbed his machine gun and slung a belt of extra ammo onto his chest.

While he was storming over to the bathysphere port in the living room, Terrance, the leader of the crew currently holed up with him, came over. "Is it time to head out, boss?"

"No." Fontaine replied shortly, not bothering with the "Atlas" voice as he boarded the bathysphere.

"Boss? Boss, where--" Terrance was cut off as Fontaine's pistol was leveled between his eyes.

"I ain't gotta explain myself to you. Now get outta my way." Fontaine growled, cocking the hammer back when Terrance didn't move.

"You know it's too dangerous for you to go out there. At least bring some guys with you." Terrance said, finally moving when Fontaine's finger went for the trigger.

"Move on your zone once the bathy's available." Fontaine said, sealing himself in without another word and pulling the lever. He sat down heavily on the cushion nearest the door and bounced his knee the entire ride, tempted every few seconds to click on the radio and check on Jack but deciding every time not to. He was **definitely** gonna get himself killed. Fuck, had he really come this far just to throw it all away because Ryan was breaking his toy?

Fontaine damn near shot himself for that one, feeling treasonous. Jack wasn't his toy, Jack was-- well, Fontaine wasn't really sure what Jack was, but he was worth the risk, damn it! Leg bouncing more violently as he came to grips with the fact that he was about to risk a twelve year grift, not to mention his very life, for someone else, Fontaine watched the ocean go by, realizing suddenly that the bathysphere was slowing.

Getting both of his guns ready, Fontaine stood and exited the bathysphere the moment he was able. Walking with a silent quickness honed by years of ducking Ryan's security as “Atlas”, Fontaine made his way to Ryan's office. There were no Splicers on the way there and when Fontaine turned the corner on the trophy room before Ryan's door, he stopped. It looked like a bomb had been detonated in the room. A **big** bomb. The whole room was burned and the only remains of the Splicers who'd been in the room were scorch marks where they'd been standing.

Snapping out of his shocked stillness as quickly as he'd fallen into it, Fontaine quickened his pace, his shoes tapping lightly now against the charred floor. He still didn't attract any Splicers, though, and Fontaine suspected that there weren't any left in Hephaestus. That the last of them had been converged in the trophy room on Ryan's say and then blown into oblivion by Jack. Passing through the door to Ryan's office, Fontaine glanced at the wall that had caused him all this trouble to begin with but didn't pay it more than that before hurrying on.

Just outside the final door to Ryan's actual office, the big man himself was lying on the floor. Fontaine didn't even bother stopping to see if Jack had left him alive as planned, only noting that Ryan wasn't bloody as he skipped over him to get to where he could hear the self-destruct override machine making noise. As Fontaine entered the room, he immediately spotted Jack, curled up against the wall, and his heart dropped.

"Jack?" He said softly, using the "Atlas" voice again. "Jack?" A bit louder when Jack didn't move and then Fontaine walked up to him slowly. "Boyo, can you hear me?" He tried, kneeling beside Jack and waiting a moment before touching his arm. He was warm and when Fontaine focused, he could tell Jack was breathing. Sighing deeply in relief, Fontaine relaxed on his legs and quickly grabbed the radio from his hip.

Spinning the dial to a broader range, Fontaine held it close so he wouldn't have to talk too loudly. "I need a team in Hephaestus **now**." He ordered, lowering the radio before thinking of something else and raising it again. "I need muscle." Fontaine added, lowering the radio for sure this time and waiting impatiently for one of his teams to radio in.

"We're already on our way, boss." It was Terrance that radioed in first. "The 'sphere's slowin' down as we speak."

Not bothering with a response, Fontaine tossed the radio aside carelessly, the damn thing clattering noisily when it hit the floor but still holding together despite the recent abuse it had been through, and looked over at Jack. He looked rough. His clothes were cut up and scorched and he had bruises and scrapes poking out of his clothes where he'd been grazed by bullets or hit with something. Beyond that, Fontaine knew his mind must be scrambled. That's probably why he was out cold now: overload.

Sighing deeply, Fontaine ran his hands through his hair and stood when he heard footsteps outside. It was probably Terrance, but Fontaine readied his pistol just in case. When Terrance came up to the door and raised his hands defensively, Fontaine lowered his pistol and motioned to Jack with his unarmed hand. "He's heavy." Was all he said, glancing to the machine in the room as it dinged and seeing that it now said "Fontaine Futuristics" on the display instead of "Ryan Industries". It was official. Rapture was his. What a bittersweet fucking feeling.

"Right." Terrance replied, looking back outside and calling in two of the stronger people in the group, Fears and Anderson, to start hauling Jack to the bathysphere. "Whatcha want us to do with Ryan?" He asked, looking at Fontaine. "He's still alive out there."

"Take him too." Fontaine replied, slipping into his actual voice without thinking about it and brushing past Terrance in order to follow the two people carrying Jack. Terrance didn't bother responding and Fontaine didn't care; his sole concern was getting Jack somewhere comfortable. He boarded the bathysphere with Jack and the guy carrying Ryan, Vasquez, and they shipped off, the rest of Terrance’s crew staying behind for the next one. Once the 'sphere was sealed up, Fontaine set the coordinates to Olympus Heights. It was officially safe to take Jack back to his place and he couldn't think of anyplace more comfortable.

Keeping an eye on Jack the entire ride, Fontaine managed to keep himself from fidgeting and when the bathysphere docked in Olympus, he was the first one off it. The Splicers roaming Olympus recognized Fontaine thanks to the key Jack had used so the walk to his place in Mercury Suites, while long, was uneventful. After a few elevator rides due to how small it was, Fontaine, his guests, and their escorts were heading past the zen garden in the entryway and then up the stairs to Fontaine's room.

"Get Jack situated on the bed and then c'mere." Fontaine ordered, motioning for Vasquez to follow him. He led him to the guest bedroom and simply motioned into the room. "Just drop him anywhere." He said, looking over when the other two joined them. "Alright, you two are gonna stay here and keep an eye on Ryan." Fontaine ordered, looking to Vasquez. "You go wait in the living room for the rest of the crew to get here."

Vasquez left with a "yes, sir" and Fontaine turned to Fears and Anderson. "If Ryan somehow manages to escape, or worse, kill himself, I will personally hunt down every person you've ever loved in your entire life and kill them in front of you. Then, you'll take Ryan's place. Understand?" He asked, tone more serious than it had been in a long time.

"Yes, Mr. Fontaine." They both replied, Anderson just slightly behind Fears. After staring each of them in the eyes individually for a moment, Fontaine nodded and left without another word.

Heading back to his room, Fontaine checked on Jack and then decided to clean himself up. While showering Fontaine debated on whether or not to shave and eventually decided the stubble could stay. He got dressed in some clothes that actually fit him properly instead of oversized and then made himself comfortable on a chair near the bed. Fontaine wasn't sure how long Jack would be out, but he didn't plan on leaving this bed for more than maybe the cigars across the hall in the lounge.

As dangerous as it might be, Fontaine was going to be the first face Jack saw when he woke up and they were going to work out the mess Ryan had made of his reality together. It was all going to start with Fontaine doing one of the things he hated most in the world: telling the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does it feel dirtier to have Fontaine do coke than it's felt for all the other drugs being done in this entire fic so far? Coke is objectively not as bad as Adam...
> 
> Well, in other news! It fuckin' cracks me up whenever I get to write Fontaine freaking out over Jack eating an Adam slug. I dunno why I decided to give him such a strong aversion to them, but that's fuckin' comedy right there.


	13. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed. Will Jack be able to recover from his mind-fucking? Will Fontaine get everything he's been working so hard for? What in the high hell will happen to Ryan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha! This chapter is so cursed! This shit is called "Fathoms of Depravity" for a reason! I'm over here sinkin' to new lows with every chapter! Heed the tags and good luck, sluts!
> 
> Characters: Jack, Frank Fontaine, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Jack, Fontaine/Jack/Ryan
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Smoking, Drinking, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Idolatry, Psychological Torture, Torture, Daddy Kink, Biting, Masochism, Sadism, Blood Kink, Spit as Lube, Blood as Lube, Anal Sex, Painful Sex, Burnplay, Size Kink, Size Difference, Non-Consensual Kissing, Oral Sex, Father/Son Incest, Non-Consensual Touching, Dirty Talk, Non-Consensual Temperature Play, Electrocution, Face-Slapping, Humiliation, Forced Orgasm, Praise Kink, Face-Fucking, Degradation, Light Breathplay, Light Overstimulation, Handjob, Unsafe Sex, Cumming Untouched

When Jack woke up, he woke up bundled up naked in the most comfortable bed he'd ever been in in his life. At first, the warmth and comfort enveloping him was enough to stave off the rising tide of thoughts and memories, but the sound of paper rustling nearby woke him up just enough to start bringing twitchy, splotchy bits and pieces of what had happened prior to passing out back to him. Jack woke up fully and shifted enough to find the source of the sound, eyes widening considerably when he spotted Atlas, sitting in a chair near the bed, a cigar and drink in one hand and a file held open like a book in his other.

Just as Fontaine was setting his glass of whiskey down so he could swap out the file he'd just finished with another one, Jack started to sit up. Dropping the file he'd been holding into the box he'd brought in earlier when sitting still and waiting patiently for Jack to wake up had proved impossible, Fontaine put his cigar in the holder on the ashtray and offered Jack a glass of water once he'd hoisted himself up into a sitting position. At first Jack didn't seem to notice the water, going to say something before flinching and closing his mouth.

"Drink." Fontaine ordered gently, meeting Jack's surprised look evenly as his own voice came out of his mouth instead of the one Jack had obviously been expecting.

After hesitating for a moment, Jack took the water and, after taking a sip and realizing it felt amazing going down his destroyed throat, drank the whole glass. "What--" He paused, clearing his throat, his voice still not quite ready to be used. "What happened?"

"Ya got your mind fucked real good by Ryan, knocked the bastard out, saved the city, and then blacked out." Fontaine summarized, taking Jack's glass and refilling it with the pitcher on the nightstand before handing it back to him. Jack's hand was trembling when he took the glass again.

"Why is your voice-- different?" Jack asked slowly, frowning deeply in confusion. Really, though, that wasn't the only thing different. Atlas' entire-- aura, Jack supposed, was off, different. When Atlas smiled, even that was different. It was all pointy and there wasn't any humor behind it. It was a mockery of a smile.

"This is my real voice." Fontaine replied, taking a deep breath and letting it out slow before continuing on while Jack nursed his second glass of water and watched him like a cornered rat watching a snake. "And, uh, my name's not Atlas." Jack's eyes widened and then narrowed, surprise and confusion warring for dominance on his face. "S'much as I hate addin' to the fuckin' day you've had, ya oughta know my real name's Frank Fontaine." Fontaine took another breath, finally meeting Jack's stormy eyes. "I think you mighta heard'a me."

With a completely straight face, Jack waited for the punchline. He waited for the cruel joke that was being made at his expense to end so they could talk about this seriously. When Atlas-- Frank? simply sat there, watching him, Jack's eyes slowly drifted to the blanket still draped over his lower half. This wasn't a joke. Jack felt sick but he knew for sure he didn't have anything but water and bile in his stomach so he tried to calm himself down. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd started to shake, but a warm hand on his shoulder made him aware of a pressure on the bed and his head jerked to the side to see-- to see familiar blue eyes and a familiar-looking stranger sitting beside him.

"Stay with me, kid." Fontaine whispered, squeezing Jack's shoulder gently. Jack shivered and Fontaine wasn't sure how to take that, but he didn't let up. "I'm sure you got questions. Don't dwell on 'em, just ask me."

Letting out a shaky breath, Jack nodded slowly and hesitated before gently taking the hand from his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. It felt like his-- well, he couldn't say his Papa because-- well, because that was ruined forever now, but, it felt good. Felt familiar. "You-you're **the** Frank Fontaine? The-the mobster? The one who-who--"

"Had you created." Fontaine supplied, squeezing Jack's hand when he flinched. "Yeah." God, it was so fucking hard to be so gentle with the kid. It was taking all of Fontaine's self control to not just straddle Jack's thick fucking hips and kiss him until he didn't care _who_ he was kissing. Fontaine himself had never been one to work through any of his own issues, so helping someone work through theirs was completely alien to him and more than a little uncomfortable.

Swallowing thickly, Jack finished the last few swallows of his water in the hopes that it would keep him from crying or crumbling or punching the face of the man beside him hard enough to cave it in. "Why did you lie to me?" He whispered once he'd finished his water, deciding that was a good place to start unraveling the tangled mess of his feelings. "You could've controlled me no matter what, so-so what was the point of Atlas?"

After taking his hand from Jack's, Fontaine refilled his glass and took his cigar from the holder just so he'd have something to keep his hands occupied. "There were a few reasons for that." He admitted, watching the smoke curling up from his cigar instead of looking at Jack. "See, me and Ryan've been fightin' for this city'a his since before I even weaseled my way down here." Fontaine explained, smiling a bit despite himself. "Awhile back he thought he iced me and I been playin' at the city as "Atlas" since. Couldn't very well show him my hand after all that. He'd'a prolly gone for the self-destruct right away if he'd'a known it was me behind it all."

"Are Frank and Atlas really that different?" Jack asked softly when the man beside him looked up at him, having been watching him silently until then, taking in the way he moved his hands around and how much he emoted while he spoke. It was-- endearing. Oddly human for someone Jack still wasn't sure he didn't want to kill. At his question, those still far-too-perfect lips turned down into what Jack would assume was a thoughtful frown. _Cute_ was the first word his traitor brain supplied. He couldn't disagree.

"Well--" Fontaine started, frowning more and mulling it over a bit longer before trying again. How to explain it to someone who'd never been anyone but himself? "I mean, the "Atlas" that fought the war for Rapture was a different man than the one you knew. The one Ryan knew was a bit more wholesome, not so-- dark." He paused and decided to take a quick drag of his dwindling cigar. "Losin' a war, losin' as much as "Atlas" did, it changes a man. S'why the "Atlas" you knew was basically just me with a different accent and a whole hell of a lot less power." Sighing, Fontaine looked at Jack again. "So, sorta, yeah. But not really with you, no."

Nodding slowly, Jack took a moment to process all that and then frowned. "So, basically, you lied to me the whole time to keep the charade up to Ryan." He concluded, tone hard to read in his own ears and to the man beside him if the way he swallowed and shifted was any indication. Was he scared of Jack? That would explain why he was being so-- open. And nice. Honest, as far as Jack could tell. Not that Jack was an expert.

"Mostly, but not entirely." Fontaine mumbled, watching Jack closely. "Who would you rather be led through an underwater hellhole by? A vicious businessman or a mostly friendly everyman? I didn't wanna hafta use your trigger phrase constantly to make you listen. "Atlas" was the perfect work-around in every way." What had happened to the open book Fontaine had spent days leading through Rapture? Suddenly Jack was so cold and closed off and Fontaine couldn't tell what he was thinking no matter how hard he studied his face. It was jarring. Concerning too, to say the least.

Hearing the man beside him talk about the man he'd loved as though he'd been nothing more than a mask to put on, which was appropriate, but still, was rubbing Jack in all the wrong ways. After accidentally breaking the mostly empty glass in his hand, Jack found himself on top of Fontaine, straddling his hips and easily holding his hands beside his head. The cigar that had been in Fontaine's hand was on the floor now, forgotten about and going ignored by Fontaine and Jack respectively.

"How much of it was even real?" Jack asked lowly, uncertain how to feel as a brief bit of fear flashed across Fontaine's face. On the one hand, Fontaine probably _should_ be afraid; Jack was hurt and raw and he currently barely had enough control over himself to not bend down and rip the man's throat out with his teeth. On the other hand, that face had belonged to Atlas, his world, and it hurt worse than anything to see it afraid; and of him, no less.

"Everythin' but the name and the voice, doll." Fontaine whispered, looking up into Jack's fiery eyes and hoping he could tell he wasn't lying. ""Atlas" was never real but I always was. Everytime we shared a moment over you killin' someone or I told you how good you were, that was me, not some phony accent wrapped in bullshit smiles." And he could tell he was on thin ice with that last comment by the way Jack squeezed his wrists and made the bones creak, but Fontaine kept going. "Do you remember when I told you that once this was all over, I'd prove that you're mine?"

"I do." Jack whispered, loosening his grip on Fontaine's wrists but still holding them down.

"Well, this is me makin' good on that. I still want you, Jack. I didn't expect to fall for you when I had ya created for all this, but damn if you haven't done a helluva job'a convincin' me." Fontaine took a breath and went in for the kill. "You're still my boy and I'm still your Papa." It felt gross to call himself that after what he'd heard in Ryan's office, and if the way Jack cringed and moved back was any indication, he didn't like it either, but the sentiment was the same and the sentiment was out there now. It was all or nothing time.

"You're not-- I can't-- not after--" Jack realized he wasn't holding Fontaine down anymore and grit his teeth a bit as he looked down at him. "Why don't you use my trigger phrase now? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" He demanded, annoyed to no end how his heart was fluttering at what Fontaine had said. Much to Jack's surprise, Fontaine smirked and then he was sitting up and cupping his face with one of those big hands.

"Nah." Fontaine replied calmly, maybe a little more certainly than was wise. "I think a big enough part of you is curious about what it'd be like t'be with me that ya ain't gonna kill me 'least 'til you've satisfied your curiosity." In truth, Fontaine had considered Jack's potential anger towards him and had taken care of that while Jack was sleeping. As weirdly sleazy as it made him feel, he'd asked Jack to _kindly_ refrain from killing him while the kid was unconscious. Jack could still hurt him, that had seemed fair, after all, but Fontaine wasn't going to die. He'd come to his senses about risking his life once he'd seen Jack was still breathing back in Ryan's office.

Something about the warm, familiar hand on his cheek mixed with the almost cocky certainty on that familiar face sparked up an odd sort of anger inside Jack and before he could spare a moment trying to figure out what he was feeling, his lips were practically crushed against Fontaine's. The older man was on his back again, Jack having apparently shoved him down, and a sudden burning sting coming from his scalp made Jack gasp. A tongue slid into his mouth before he could even realize Fontaine had pulled his hair and Jack felt like his whole body was on fire as he struggled to return the kiss that he was suddenly not in control of anymore.

There was so much teeth, too much teeth, _just the right amount of teeth_ as Fontaine bit everything he could reach. Jack's lips, especially the bottom one, his tongue, his throat when Jack had to break away to pull in a gasping breath. It was almost like being attacked and when Jack suddenly realized his mouth was full of his own blood, it stirred another alien feeling inside of him. He jerked his neck away from Fontaine's mouth roughly and moved down the older man's body before he could capture his mouth again. With a certain animal ferocity, Jack practically tore Fontaine's pants getting them open and actually did tear his underwear freeing his cock.

"Can't take it without lube, doll." Fontaine breathed out in a hurry, his breath catching as Jack met his eyes, his mouth hovering inches from his cock. If he hadn't been so sure Jack was about to give him the ride of his life, he'd have been afraid that Jack was going to bite it off. Jack's mouth did open, but it was only in order to spit a mouthful of saliva and blood onto his cock and Fontaine practically growled as the thick mixture ran down his cock, making it jerk hard. That was so fucking hot. Why was that so fucking hot?

After slinking back up Fontaine's body like some kind of horny, angry serpent, Jack sat on Fontaine's cock, taking it to the root in one fairly painful go. The "lube" wasn't enough, not even close, but both men bucked into the feeling like it was the most exquisite thing they'd ever experienced. Then they were kissing again, all teeth and tongue and blood, mostly Jack's, and their hands gripped and groped and bruised as Jack started up a pace that would surely leave both of them limping.

There was more pain than anything and the sounds that Jack and Fontaine were making were animalistic, but both men got off in minutes, too banged up and utterly sated to care that it had all ended so quickly. While Jack hovered over Fontaine, trying to catch his breath and not crush the man under him, Fontaine laughed and it surprised Jack enough that he managed to focus his blurry eyes on him.

"One'a these days we'll manage to fuck with some actual lube." Fontaine said, his voice even rougher thanks to afterglow and all the growling he'd just been doing.

Despite himself, Jack laughed, finding the energy to fling himself onto the bed, and onto the glass that was still there, beside Fontaine. He winced a bit as the larger shards of cup cut into his skin, but couldn't bring himself to move again, simply accepting the stinging stabs as another pain to deal with on top of the scratches and bitemarks and his raw asshole. "That might be nice." Fontaine laughed again and Jack decided he liked the sound.

"Ain'tcha layin' on glass?" Fontaine asked, propping himself up on his elbows to look over at Jack.

"Yeah." Jack muttered, watching Fontaine as he stood up.

"Up." Fontaine ordered, barely battling down a smirk when Jack grumbled a bit but listened, getting off the bed long enough for Fontaine to strip off the soiled, glass-filled blanket. He tossed it aside and then climbed back onto the bed, looking over when Jack didn't join him right away. Fontaine hesitated, looking uncertain for a moment, and then held his arms out to Jack, an eyebrow raised in a way he hoped was inviting.

It was Jack's turn to hesitate as Fontaine offered him a familiar embrace but in the end, the need to feel wanted won out over his lingering anger and he crawled into the bed, accepting Fontaine's embrace and snuggling against his chest. "I still have questions."

"Shoot." Fontaine replied, getting out a cigarette for himself before offering Jack one. He took it and after a moment of what looked like intense concentration, lit up a small blaze on his finger to light it with. Once Jack’s was lit, Fontaine leaned in and kept Jack’s eyes while he lit his own, unable to keep from smirking as Jack flushed and looked away.

Once Fontaine was done lighting his own cigarette, Jack extinguished his finger and let out his first breath of smoke before speaking. "Is Frank Fontaine even your real name?" It wasn't important, not really, but Jack wasn't about to get used to the idea of calling the man beside him Frank instead of Atlas if that was another lie. He might actually kill him if it was another lie. It wasn't very reassuring when Fontaine took longer than instantly to answer.

"Technically no." Fontaine finally replied, holding Jack tighter when he started to move. "I killed the real Frank Fontaine and stole his identity before I came down here." He explained, chancing a look at Jack's face and seeing that he was calming down from what looked like indignant anger. "My real first name _is_ Frank, though. That was just a happy coincidence when I took Fontaine's name."

"What's your real last name?" Jack asked, a curious note to his voice. Again, it didn't matter, but he wanted to know.

"Ain't got one." Fontaine replied, smiling at Jack's disbelieving look and lowering his voice even though he was pretty sure no one would overhear him. "Orphans don't get last names 'less they get adopted." He explained, frowning when Jack's eyes widened and he looked apologetic. "No, don't-- don't feel bad, none'a that shit matters." Fontaine assured, shaking his head a bit at Jack, who still had the gall to look uncertain like-- like he cared. Could it really have been that easy? "Focus on right now, doll. I'm Frank Fontaine now and I'll prolly be Frank Fontaine 'til I die. Ain't never had a name that fit as well as this one does. S'why I went back to it."

Finally relaxing, Jack nodded slowly, realizing a moment later that he'd been worried about hurting Fontaine by bringing up something potentially painful. Fuck, was he really getting used to the idea of Fontaine that quickly? When Jack looked up at Fontaine's face again and caught him blowing a ring with his cigarette smoke, it made him smile an adoring sort of smile that he was afraid he'd lost with Atlas. Just like that, it occurred to Jack that he might really be able to get used to the idea of Fontaine as his new-- fuck, he needed something to call him.

"Hey." Jack said, getting Fontaine's attention in the form of a hum and a raised eyebrow. "How do you feel about Daddy?" When Fontaine choked on his current lungful of smoke, Jack couldn't help but smile a little. Once he was done coughing, he looked down at Jack uncertainly and Jack found the look endlessly endearing coming from the man who'd just been exuding so much confidence not ten minutes before.

"I-- yeah, I like that." Fontaine replied, searching Jack's eyes for any indication that he shouldn't be getting his hopes up. "Does-- that mean you're still my boy, then?" He practically whispered, not particularly caring about how hopeful he sounded. It was pathetic, **he** was pathetic, but he hadn't gone through all this work to come out the other side empty-handed and Jack was now dangling in front of him the possibility of it not taking nearly as long as Fontaine had suspected it would to get things back to whatever they'd had.

"I think so." Jack said, still smiling and reaching up to brush his hand against Fontaine's cheek. "I wanna get to know you more. Get to know the real you. But I like what I've seen so far." He admitted, deciding to believe that all of Atlas' darkness stemmed from Fontaine and that Atlas had truly been as thin a veneer as Fontaine had insinuated he was. Jack knew he was taking a risk, opening himself up again, even quicker than last time, to the same man and yet not, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Jack needed Atlas and if Fontaine was as close as he'd ever get, he'd make that work. Maybe all he really needed was someone to worship. Jack supposed he'd see.

"Well, shit." Fontaine breathed, head thunking against the headboard as he flopped it back. He didn't care though and let out a disbelieving laugh. It was really going to be that easy. "Guess I sorta _gotta_ warn ya that however bad you thought "Atlas" was, he was just the tip'a the iceberg. There's a reason all'a Rapture was afraid of me back in my glory days." He warned, smirking when Jack looked up at him and had the absolute nerve to look intrigued.

"I hope you're not just embellishing to impress me, because I've been holding an awful lot back from "Atlas" and I'm not so inclined to give _you_ the same courtesy." Jack replied, unable to keep from smiling a decidedly lovestruck smile that completely ruined the threatening air of his words when Fontaine raised an eyebrow at him and looked oddly impressed.

"I'll be sure to give you the full, unfiltered Frank Fontaine experience then." Fontaine promised in a tone that was bordering on threatening. Jack simply looked pleased and laid his head on his shoulder, making Fontaine smile fondly despite himself.

"You better."

Snorting softly, Fontaine casually put his cigarette out on Jack's collarbone, ignoring the half-hiss, half-gasp that earned him. "Got any more questions for me?" He asked, finding he couldn't keep himself from tracing patterns into Jack's back now that his hand wasn't occupied. The two actions were as different as could be, but that was just how Fontaine was. If Jack wanted the unfiltered version of himself, he'd fucking get it. Fontaine's confidence had been renewed and he was ready to see if the kid could handle him.

After a brief moment of thinking, Jack nodded and looked up at Fontaine's face to watch his expressions. "All that stuff about Ryan-- being my-- that's all true?" He asked softly, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth that the cigarette he was still nursing helped a little. How did Fontaine blow through his so fast? It suddenly occurred to Jack that this was probably his fourth cigarette _ever_ and then it made sense that he smoked slower.

"Yeah. He's your sperm donor." Fontaine replied, wrinkling his nose a bit before glancing down and realizing Jack was watching him. Flashing the kid a smirk, he looked away again and lightly ran his nails down Jack's back, feeling him shiver lightly beside him. "Had to get Ryan's DNA so you could use the bathyspheres and so security wouldn't be as aggressive towards ya." Fontaine explained, suddenly finding some of the raised skin on Jack's back where he'd scratched him earlier and tracing his fingers down the lines gently.

"What about all those bathyspheres your-- probably not family used?" Jack asked, voice wavering a little thanks to how Fontaine kept shifting between teasing him with gentle touches and causing him minute amounts of pain.

Laughing softly as Jack called the whole "family" lie out, Fontaine nodded. "Yeah, they're my lackeys, not family. Ain't got no family." He admitted, deciding it was probably best he didn't look down to see what expression Jack might be giving him for that admission. Family wasn't a big deal to Fontaine and it wasn't _really_ a big deal to Jack either, Jack just knew it was a big deal to most people. Fontaine needed to do something about those pesky fake memories clouding his kid's judgment. "Those 'spheres are hacked. It took weeks for each one and then it was a constant struggle keepin' 'em off the grid enough so they wouldn't get locked again."

"That makes sense." Jack decided, frowning a bit as another thought crossed his mind. "What-what about my-- about Jasmine Jolene?" It didn't really feel right to call her his mother, like how it didn’t feel right calling Ryan his father, not when she'd given him away before he was even born and he’d done his best to destroy Jack. Still, Jack wanted to know. Was she one of those spliced-up loons that he'd murdered or had she died one way or another before Rapture had really gone to shit? Was she still somehow alive somewhere?

"Dead. Ryan killed 'er when he found out what she did." Fontaine replied neutrally, not bothering to soften the blow since Jack didn't have any actual loyalty to his egg donor. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Jack's face, though. The kid went from frowning to looking thoughtful to sort of deflating.

"Huh." Jack huffed, his jaw clenching a little. "Is there a way to turn off the old Jack?" He blurted out, looking up at Fontaine's face and flushing a bit at the raised eyebrow that greeted him. "You know, the fake, surface version of me." Jack mumbled, looking away again. "It was getting so easy to ignore the feeling that everything I did was wrong because of all those fake morals you implanted in my head, but now that my brain's all scrambled and messed up--"

"The weather sure is nice today." Fontaine interrupted, watching Jack's face go blank as the command he'd just issued took affect. While Jack had been sleeping, Fontaine had been looking over all the triggers Suchong had embedded in his brain and that had been one of the ones he'd come across. He knew about the important ones like the big one and "code yellow", which was his failsafe, but there were so many others. If Fontaine hadn't known any better, he'd have thought Suchong had extra time on his hands while creating Jack due to the sheer amount of mostly worthless triggers in his head.

Meanwhile, something in Jack's brain shifted and it was only because he was aware of the fact that he had a trigger phrase that made him aware that something was happening. He knew how it felt to be-- the other one'd, so the feeling of his brain rewriting itself was actually noticeable. After the feeling passed, Jack realized there was no nagging. He couldn't remember his surface memories anymore. There was no old Jack telling him he should care that his mother in technicality only was killed by his father in technicality only's hands.

Quite suddenly, Jack smiled broadly and moved to straddle Fontaine again. He wrapped his arms lightly around Fontaine's neck and nuzzled happily into the junction where neck met shoulder. It felt amazing to suddenly be without the burden of knowing that he should care about stuff he didn't **want** to care about. It felt amazing to suddenly not feel guilty for not wanting to care. It was like getting the "loosen up" command all over again, except now the voice telling him he was bad couldn't even pipe up before being squashed. It didn't exist. The old Jack was officially dead. When Fontaine laughed, it made Jack's smile widen.

"You're welcome?" Fontaine ventured, draping his arms loosely around Jack's wide hips. It was such a fucking turn-on having someone so fucking massive sitting on his lap like this and if his dick hadn't still been tired and a little raw from their rough romp earlier, Fontaine imagined he'd be showing that.

"I'm still mad at you for lying to me." Jack mumbled, his tone oddly happy despite his assertion. "But it feels really good to not have to fight my own mind. Thank you, Daddy." Fontaine's cock twitched at that and Jack's smile grew into a mischievous grin. He moved to nibble at Fontaine's shoulder, making the older man hum and tighten his grip on his hips. Jack was just about to suggest that he and Fontaine try sex with actual lube for once when there was a knock at the door.

Sighing frustratedly, Fontaine peaked over Jack's shoulder at the door. "Come in." He grumbled, noting happily how Jack didn't seem to care that one of his people was about to see him butt-ass naked. Vasquez opened the door and when his face turned red and he averted his eyes, it drew a smirk from Fontaine even though he was still a bit annoyed at being interrupted.

"Sorry to bother you, boss, but Ryan's awake. Fears and Anderson thought you'd wanna know." He explained, glancing over and leaving quickly when Fontaine waved a dismissive hand at him.

Looking Jack up and down, Fontaine heaved a sigh. "We needta find ya somethin' to wear." He glanced over at his closet, pursed his lips, and then smacked Jack on the thigh a few times. "Move." He demanded, smirking this time when Jack obeyed without any grumbles.

"Do you have anything that'll actually fit me?" Jack asked, sitting on the bed and watching Fontaine's ass, which was perfectly framed in his slacks, as he walked to the closet. The fact that Fontaine’s clothes actually fit him instead of being a size too big like “Atlas’” had looked definitely made him more fun to look at. “Atlas” had been roguish and ruggedly handsome and that had been delightful, but there was definitely something alluring about the sharp, clearly wealthy look Fontaine had going on.

"I might." Fontaine muttered, opening up the closet and starting to sift through the clothes within. "I think I might have a couple things I got as gifts that were too big. Had ta keep 'em t'be polite or whatever." He pulled a deep burgundy dress shirt from the deepest recesses of his closet that looked to be about just the right size for a giant assassin. It was a little wrinkled, but Fontaine doubted Jack would care. A pair of slacks that looked like they'd actually fit around Jack's massive hips took a bit longer to find but eventually he pulled out a pair and walked back over to Jack, holding the pants out to him.

Standing obediently, Jack took the pants and slid them on. They were snug on his thighs, but he could button them relatively comfortably, so he counted that as a win. When Fontaine didn't hand over the shirt, Jack raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "What's--"

"Arms out." Fontaine interrupted, having unbuttoned the shirt while Jack got the pants on. Jack looked a little confused but obeyed, spreading his arms out and flushing cutely when Fontaine started sliding the shirt on him. The shirt fit perfectly, but Fontaine left the top three buttons unbuttoned and grabbed each of Jack's arms individually to cuff the sleeves before stepping back to admire his work. Jack was still blushing and his hair was a mess from sleep and sex. He looked downright sleazy with the shirt being the way it was and the too-tight pants. "Perfect." Fontaine decided, coming closer again and running his fingers through Jack's messy hair until it looked purposefully mussed instead of just messy.

"Thanks, Daddy." Jack mumbled, unable to look Fontaine in the eyes as he eyed him appreciatively a bit more before going to change his own soiled clothes. He caught his reflection in the full-length mirror beside the closet and couldn't help but grin. The clothes were nothing like Jack had ever worn before, all fine fabrics and clearly expensive. It was an odd combination with the dark bruises and bitemarks littering just about every square inch of his exposed skin. It suddenly occurred to Jack that he looked like a tramp a rich man had taken a fancy to. The thought made him grin more broadly and blush harder and he looked away from himself, catching Fontaine's eyes in the mirror and covering his face in embarrassment.

"Enjoyin' the view?" Fontaine teased, walking over and moving Jack's hands away from his face. His smirk turned into a grin when Jack nodded, still smiling and refusing to look at him. "It is somethin'." Fontaine agreed, cupping Jack's chin and forcing him to look at him. "You're basically a walkin' wet dream." He purred seductively, finally getting to use his most seductive voice on Jack and seeing that it had a worthwhile effect from how Jack's face turned even redder and his eyes widened.

Hand moving from Jack's chin to the back of his head, Fontaine tangled his fingers in his hair roughly and pulled him down for a deep kiss. Jack made a breathless sound and curled his arms around Fontaine's waist to pull him closer as he returned the kiss. Fontaine's tongue was in his mouth in seconds and Jack shuddered, making another breathless sound when Fontaine clenched his fist, pulling his hair almost hard enough to take a few strands out. Jack was busy struggling not to bruise Fontaine's back with his grip while still trying to return the kiss when Fontaine pulled away, a satisfied smirk on his spit-slick lips.

"I'm gonna fuck your throat _raw_ once we're done with Ryan." Fontaine promised, grinning when Jack shivered and bit his lip.

"Let's get him over with, then." Jack muttered, smiling a bit when Fontaine laughed and started leading him out of the room with an arm around his waist. As Jack watched the shorter man leading him, eyed his confident smirk and the way he held his head high with pride or arrogance or maybe both despite the fact that he was also disheveled and covered in bruises and such, he couldn't bring himself to miss Atlas.

When the couple reached the double doors to the guest bedroom, Fontaine released Jack in order to swing both doors open dramatically. The two guards in the room started at the entrance and Fontaine ignored them in favor of grinning at Ryan who was glaring daggers at him from the other side of the room. He snaked his hand back around Jack's waist and allowed himself to ooze a pleased aura as he came closer. Ryan glared between them a bit before huffing through his nose and turning his eyes to the painting he'd been looking at when they'd come in.

"I suppose I should've known I couldn't separate a slave from his master that easily." Ryan grumbled, sounding quite bitter even as he tried to look apathetic.

"Can't separate a boy from his Daddy that easily." Fontaine corrected, grin turning sinister around the corners when Ryan jerked his head towards him, eyes wide with shock. "I been dyin' t'tell you how your kid calls me Daddy too, but considerin' he don't think of you as more 'an a few lines'a DNA, it sorta rings hollow." Ryan was standing wide-eyed, looking at Fontaine like he was looking at a ghost and Fontaine couldn't help but laugh. "Didja miss me, Ryan?" He asked, using the soft, conversational tone he'd used a hundred times before while chatting Ryan up at a party or in one of their lounges.

"You-- it can't be." Ryan whispered, looking away and running a hand through his hair. "No, it all makes sense now." He said, letting out a bitter laugh and turning his gaze on Jack. He sneered and looked disgusted as he recognized the bruises and bitemarks he was covered in for what they were.

Before Ryan could say something to him, Jack spoke up, standing proud despite the withering look being cast on him. "I didn't really get a chance to tell you while you were trying to break my mind in your office, but I've made plenty of choices since I got here." He said, confidence not wavering even when Ryan's sneer turned condescending. The tight grip Fontaine had on his waist was definitely helping. "I chose--"

"You chose nothing." Ryan interrupted, sneer unmoving. "You've been given the illusion of choice to keep you complacent. You're nothing more than a collared beast being allowed to swipe occasionally at a target your master picks for you so you can feel that you're being allowed to satisfy your urges."

"Hey now, there's an idea." Fontaine said brightly, grinning at Jack and tracing a finger across his bruised neck. "I oughta getcha a collar. Would ya like that, doll? Wearin' my name on ya for everyone t'see?"

Flushing, Jack couldn't help but smile. "I bet I can do you one better." He mumbled, smiling when Fontaine raised a curious eyebrow at him. "You should tattoo your name on me."

Grinning broadly, Fontaine looked to Ryan, looking triumphant and grinning all the more at the disgusted curl of Ryan's lip. "Well, look at that. I think that counts as a choice. **You** certainly won't be gettin' many of those in the near future." He tilted his head a bit as he kept Ryan's eyes that were now narrowed at him, the man's jaw set in a firm clench. "Hope you secretly like the idea of bein' a slave cuz you certainly ain't gonna feel like a man once me and my boy are done with ya."

Scoffing, Ryan rolled his eyes and looked away from the couple again. "Your meager attempts at intimidation fall on deaf ears. You'll be throwing my corpse to the ocean long before you manage to wring a satisfying reaction from me regardless of whatever you have planned."

"We'll see." Fontaine practically purred, looking at Jack again. "How much control ya got over Electro Bolt, doll?"

"Depends on what you want me to do with it, Daddy." Jack replied, looking at Fontaine curiously and not missing the way Ryan cringed but ignoring it regardless.

"If you so much as suspect for even a second that Ryan's gonna try usin' your trigger phrase on you, I want you to shock the shit outta him." Fontaine ordered, making an effort to soften his tone so it didn't **sound** like an order. "Try not to kill him, 'course, but make it hurt as bad as you can." The grin Jack gave him was practically feral and it made Fontaine's heart skip. Fuck, maybe he really **had** been hiding alot from "Atlas".

"I can do that, Daddy." Jack confirmed, grin softening at the slight flush under Fontaine's stubble. It felt good knowing he didn't have to cut the edge from his smile around Fontaine. It felt good knowing he didn't have to hide any part of who he was, of the person he'd forged for himself. The monster Rapture and "Atlas" and copious amounts of violence had helped him turn into.

"That's m'boy." Fontaine murmured in approval, looking over at Fears and Anderson and waving a hand at them. "You two wait outside. Don't come back in here unless I call your names specifically." As they left with a "yes, sir" each, Fontaine turned his attention on Ryan, raising a curious eyebrow at the expression on his face. It was caught halfway between disgusted and amused.

"You two deserve eachother." Ryan said, a smug note to his voice. "Two disgusting creatures that you are. It's so clear to see that you designed him specifically to please you." Then he turned his hard eyes on Jack, who looked decidedly angry, his fists already crackling with lightning. "And you. To think you're the result of my seed. A pathetic creature so pleased to serve. Yes, you both certainly deserve eachother. Sickening." Ryan spat the last word, Jack frowning waveringly at him, and both men looking at Fontaine in varying degrees of surprise when he laughed.

"Well, that sounded like a father's blessin' if I ever heard one." Fontaine drawled, the very picture of amused as he looked to Jack. "Don't be too shocked if I ask ya to marry me later."

Eyes widening, Jack opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it again and looked at Fontaine like he didn't know whether or not to take him seriously. Fontaine suddenly came closer and lowered his voice to a whisper next to his ear. "We'll discuss it later, doll. I wasn't jokin', but try not to flounder so hard in front of Ryan, alright?" When he pulled back with a cocky grin, Jack managed to find his voice and he laughed, turning his face away from Ryan and nodding a bit.

Scoffing with a great deal of disgust and contempt dripping from his voice, Ryan shook his head. "Unbelievable." He grumbled, hardening his expression into a glare when Fontaine stepped up to him.

"Don't be jealous, Ryan." He purred, smirking in way that made Ryan's eyes flash uncertainly for just a second. "Just cuz I'm marryin' him, doesn't mean ya can't have a taste." Ryan's eyes widened and Fontaine took that as his cue, immediately shoving the older man onto the bed he was beside and climbing over him before he could recover.

Standing off to the side in shock, mostly due to what Fontaine had just implied, Jack watched the two men wrestle for a bit before settling. Fontaine ended up underneath Ryan, sitting halfway up against the headboard, with Ryan still struggling in a headlock against his chest. When Fontaine motioned with his head for Jack to join them on the bed, he hesitated but eventually obeyed, confused and uncertain but also curious. Surely Fontaine hadn't been implying what he thought. Surely that had only been to catch Ryan off-guard enough to get him into his current position. Yes, that made sense. That had to be it.

"Release me at once, you depraved--" Ryan snarled, getting cut off by Fontaine tightening his hold on his throat. He clawed at Fontaine's arm and tried his damnedest to buck and squirm away, but Fontaine had always been stronger than him. Years of playing the role of "Atlas" had only made him stronger while Ryan had been too busy trying to keep his city from falling apart to keep up with any kind of workout regimen. In short, as much as it pained him to admit it even to himself, he was at Fontaine's notoriously short supply of mercy.

Once Ryan stopped bucking and squirming in favor of drawing what ragged breath he could, Fontaine looked to Jack. It was time to do the delicate balancing act of getting what he wanted while also framing it in a way that made it seem like something Jack should also want. "Now, as much as I know you wanna sink your claws into this old windbag, I have a suggestion I think ya oughta consider." When Jack simply nodded slowly, Fontaine continued. "We could hurt him, and that'd be real fun for awhile, but you've never partaken in the sweet, simple joy of mentally an' emotionally destroyin' somebody."

Curiosity winning out over any lingering dubiousness, Jack scooted a little closer. "So what'd you have in mind, Daddy?" He asked softly, looking between Ryan's uncomfortable grimace and Fontaine's calm smirk a few times before settling on his Daddy.

"I think it's fair to say Ryan absolutely despises the both of us, but especially you. Wouldn't you agree, doll?"

"I would." Jack grumbled, finding he was just a tiny bit bitter. Why _did_ Ryan hate him so much? It didn't seem like it stopped at hating the man who'd helped his nemesis take his city otherwise Ryan would surely hate them equally, wouldn't he? Was it really just because they were blood and Ryan thought he was tainting his name or something? It's not like anyone but the three of them and maybe a few others knew. It's not like anyone left in Rapture would care. Certainly no one on the surface would. It's not like Jack _cared_ , it was just a little frustrating.

Pretending not to notice the bitterness in Jack's voice, Fontaine carried on. "See, no matter how hard someone born n' raised on the surface might try to embrace the "no morals" ideals of Rapture, there are some things that just get pounded into ya harder than others." He said, using the arm still choking Ryan to tilt his face up a bit more. "Look at that face." He ordered, glancing down when Jack did as he was told to meet Ryan's seething eyes. "Now tell me, in your honest opinion, if that looks like the face of a man who's peachy with gettin' tongued by his own flesh n' blood."

Jack had the unparalleled joy of watching Ryan's eyes widen in horror as his struggled renewed. A slow, sinister smile spread across Jack's face and he easily caught Ryan's kicking legs, holding them down just above his knees and narrowing his eyes as a bit of a sneer entered his smile when Ryan turned his furious eyes on him instead of Fontaine. "No, it sure doesn't." Jack replied, keeping Ryan's eyes as he spoke to Fontaine, making a show of licking his teeth and feeling his smile grow more vicious when Ryan shuddered in naked disgust.

Cock uncomfortably hard in his slacks as Jack went from uncertain to a fucking predator right before his eyes, Fontaine couldn't help but grin. "I ain't gonna make you do anythin' you don't wanna do, but I can promise you he'd hate it alot more than you would." He said seductively, not holding back as Jack tried to burn a hole through Ryan's face with his eyes. Then Jack frowned a little and looked up at him through his lashes, the expression not doing his erection any favors.

"But we can still hurt him too, right?" Jack asked, smiling when Fontaine grinned indulgently at him.

"Of course, doll. Ya got a trio of Plasmids that I bet'd work just fine 'til we get some proper toys brought in." Jack smiled that cute, loving little smile of his before turning his attention back to Ryan, his smile morphing back into that nasty, _fucking sexy as hell_ , grin.

When Jack reached for Ryan's face with one of his hands, Fontaine moved his arm, allowing Jack to take his place holding Ryan still. Ryan tried to say something during his brief moment of being able to breathe normally during the exchange but then Jack had him, thumb under his chin and fingers cupping his cheek, and Ryan was cut off with a choking sound. His hands went for Jack's hand, but he had even less luck dislodging that than Fontaine's arm and Fontaine took the initiative of holding Ryan's arms back when Jack leaned in to force his tongue into Ryan's mouth.

Everything about Ryan annoyed Jack and there wasn't any bigger turn-off that Jack could think of than his withering, judgmental personality, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy just a little how Ryan jerked in his and Fontaine's combined grip, trying desperately to escape Jack. He made the mistake of biting Jack's tongue, the slight sting causing Jack to moan softly despite himself and deepen the kiss which made Ryan cringe. If Fontaine would've bitten his tongue that hard, Jack would've been bleeding for sure, but for some reason, it only registered as a dull pressure and a slight amount of pain when Ryan did it. He'd need to remember to bring that up to Fontaine when they were alone at some point.

"Fuck." Fontaine breathed, grinning madly as he watched Jack tongue his sperm donor like they were long-seperated lovers. The sight was even hotter than Fontaine had thought it would be, especially whenever he caught a glimpse of Ryan's disgusted face as he tried fruitlessly to struggle. Forcing Ryan's arms behind his back, Fontaine snaked his right arm around Ryan's chest and held him tight so he couldn't get his hands free. With his left hand, he reached between Ryan's legs and started to grope him roughly, getting Ryan's legs closed tightly on his hand for his efforts.

When Jack pulled away from the kiss, Ryan took the opportunity to try and catch his breath, not even getting the opportunity to consider trying to use Jack's trigger phrase before Jack had forced his legs apart and was back to kissing him. He tried to wiggle his arms free from Fontaine's grip, but he was dizzy from lack of air and overwhelmed from all the different, disgusting sensations assaulting him and just couldn't manage. Jack's hips were now keeping him from closing his legs and the hand roughly massaging his crotch was just another unwanted distraction to his escape attempts.

"How's that feel, Ryan?" Fontaine whispered seductively in Ryan's ear, smirking when the older man shuddered. "How's it feel havin' your own son's tongue down your throat while the man responsible for it all tugs on your dick?" He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle when Ryan shuddered again and gave one last valiant jerking twist of his body before falling limp in exhaustion against Fontaine's chest. "That's it, just let us show you where you really belong. Guy like you never belonged at the top, you've always been a bottom bitch."

Listening to Fontaine talk dirty to Ryan and seeing the way it made his face twist in disgust and something tantalizingly close to pain triggered something dark and feral inside Jack. He broke the kiss again and tore Ryan's shirt open, not bothering with the buttons and in fact intentionally doing as much damage to the garment as possible while pulling it apart enough to reveal Ryan's chest. It took quite a bit of focus on Jack's part to get only his thumbs frozen over by Winter Blast, but once Jack had achieved the desired result, he pressed his thumbs to Ryan's nipples and reveled in the strangled "fuck" he bit out as his chest arched.

"Oh, I felt it twitch!" Fontaine said, grinning up at Jack and groping Ryan more roughly. "Think we can make him cum, doll? His own kid and the man who stole everything from him?"

Grinning at Fontaine over Ryan's shoulder, Jack nodded. "He's definitely enjoying himself. I don't think we could stop him from cumming if we wanted to." He replied, sneering at Ryan and slapping him across the face with a handful of lightning when he opened his mouth. Ryan's head jerked to the side from the force and his body convulsed from the electricity running through him, his words successfully cut off. "Don't talk, bottom bitch." Jack snarled, running his electric hand teasingly down Ryan's chest and watching in satisfaction as he twitched and jerked from the tiny currents shocking him.

"Fuck." Fontaine breathed again, flashing Jack a toothy grin when Jack looked at him. "Never realized how hot it'd be to watch you act like a top." He said, popping the button on Ryan's slacks and cramming his hand into his pants to keep rubbing him through his underwear. Jack smiled at him and pressed Incinerate heated thumbs to Ryan's no doubt still-cold nipples. The resulting full-body jerk was more violent than any before and Ryan let out a strangled sound, his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched tightly. Still, his erection wasn't flagging despite what had to be at least some pain and Fontaine squeezed it in a way that could be mistaken as soothing if it weren't for the situation they were all in.

Deciding to focus on Fontaine's goal of humiliating Ryan instead of hurting him, Jack put away his Plasmids and removed Ryan's tie from his neck. "I bet this ugly thing was terribly expensive." He muttered, tossing the tie behind himself and going to work ripping the rest of Ryan's shirt from his body. "You won't need silly things like ugly ties and expensive shirts now that you're going to spend your time entertaining me and my Daddy."

"From the king of an entire city to nothin' but a fuckable punchin' bag." Fontaine rumbled, grinning at Jack when he caught his sly gaze from over Ryan's shoulder. "I'd say "how the mighty have fallen", but I'm still on top so really the mighty haven't gone anywhere. You're just finally where you belong."

"Bottom bitch." Jack sneered in Ryan's other ear, zapping his balls lightly with Electro Bolt and watching with an ugly grin as Ryan's whole body went taught. His teeth were clenched so hard that Jack was sure he'd crack them so nothing but a strangled sound escaped Ryan's throat, but a few tears did manage to squeeze out of his tightly shut eyes. Jack didn't bother trying to resist the urge to catch one on his tongue.

Chuckling darkly, Fontaine removed his hand from Ryan's pants and wiped it off on the trembling man's chest. "Looks like you were right, doll. He made a mess in his pants like a damn horny teenager."

"He's probably been dying to be put in his place like this since before he even founded Rapture." Jack hummed, moving back so Fontaine could toss Ryan to the side and get off the bed. He followed him up and rubbed Fontaine's chest in little circles when the shorter man wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. "I mean, why else would he have actually gotten off on this?"

"Took the thoughts right outta my head, doll." Fontaine said happily, idly thinking about whether he was going to make Jack change his last name to "Fontaine" or let him keep "Ryan" once they were married. Maybe he'd let Jack choose. "Guess we oughta let 'im get settled in." He said offhandedly, the hand on Jack's waist sliding down to grope his ass. "'Less you ain't satisfied, doll."

The way Ryan sort of curled in on himself even as he managed to keep his face hidden made Jack's heart flutter and he turned to peck Fontaine on the lips. "I think I'm good. I can only stomach so much of him in one go." He then lowered his voice, whispering into Fontaine's ear. "I'd much rather be choking on your perfect cock right now."

Growling lowly, Fontaine led Jack from the room and looked at Fears once the door opened. "Tell Terrance I want Ryan watched at all times. You, Anderson, and Vasquez can take turns keepin' an eye on him until Terrance figures somethin' out." He ordered, getting a "yes, Mr. Fontaine" from her and going back to his own room with Jack. The moment the doors were closed, he had both hands tangled in Jack's hair and was forcing him to his knees. "I'm so fuckin' hard from watchin' you fuck with Ryan. I can't wait to fuck your dirty little mouth."

Feeling a familiar but much more intense zip of excitement at hearing Fontaine's rough Bronx accent talk like that, Jack dropped to his knees obediently and immediately went to work freeing the rock-hard cock in front of him. As much as he wanted to talk dirty back, maybe share in some playful banter with his Daddy, do some teasing, the sight of that cock so close again made Jack's mouth water and he was taking it as deep as he could before Fontaine could even get a proper grip on his hair.

Not one to be outdone, though, Fontaine quickly found the purchase he was looking for in Jack's hair and took over, moving the eager man's head up and down on his aching cock. "Hands on my thighs, doll. Don't let me catch you touchin' your little prick." He growled, smirking when Jack's face flushed and he obeyed. "Good boy." He mumbled, smirk widening into a grin when Jack moaned around his cock. As lovely as this was, this wasn't what either man wanted, and Fontaine quickly moved the pace of his thrusts up.

Soon he was choking Jack on his cock with every thrust and moving in and out of his throat so fast that Jack could barely get a breath in before his throat was too full of cock to allow air. Jack loved it, though. He was so hard and since he didn't have any underwear, his dick was pressing uncomfortably against the inside zipper of his pants. He didn't dare reach down though, not to adjust himself or touch himself or even to unzip his pants. Fontaine had told him to keep his hands on his thighs and Jack was determined to be a good boy for his Daddy.

It didn't take Fontaine long to blow his load since he was so worked up from their time with Ryan and he made sure to bottom out in Jack's throat while he came, forcing Jack to drink every drop whether he wanted to or not; even knowing that he almost certainly wanted to. He pulled back enough on the last spurt or two for Jack to taste him and groaned as Jack did just that, his tongue lapping at the slit of his cock greedily, chasing every last drop. Fontaine let him until it became painful and then for a little longer before he finally pulled away, admiring Jack's swollen lips once the head of his cock popped free of them.

"Thank you, Daddy." Jack murmured, looking up through his lashes to catch Fontaine's eyes and trying hard not to smile when his cock twitched, clearly too tired to fill out again but giving a valiant effort anyway.

"Fuck." Was yet again all Fontaine managed to get past his lips. He hadn't expected Jack to remember his little promise from Arcadia, but getting thanked for using the kid was even hotter than Fontaine had suspected it would be. Taking a step back, Fontaine tucked himself away and tried not to look so turned on when he regarded Jack, still sitting there with his hands away from his crotch like a good boy. "Hands behind your back, knees apart." He ordered, smirking as Jack obeyed.

Even though Jack had been good, Fontaine decided to be cruel and started walking around him slowly, pretending to examine his posture. Jack, to his credit, sat there calmly, watching Fontaine when he was in his view but not moving to follow him. God, but he really _was_ such a good little slut.

For his part, Jack was trying not to shudder at the feeling of Fontaine's eyes roaming his body. He wanted to be good but it was so hard not to try and get some friction from his zipper when the way that Fontaine circled him like a shark was making him somehow even harder than he already was. Finally Fontaine knelt beside him and slowly pulled the zipper of his pants down, letting out one of those silky, irresistibly sexy chuckles when his dick sprang free and tapped his shirt.

"Look at that." Fontaine hummed, slowly running the tip of his index finger from the base of Jack's cock to the tip. "Your pretty little prick is so hard just from chokin' on my cock." He grinned when Jack's dick twitched and he gripped it loosely, brushing his nose against Jack's ear as he brought his mouth close to whisper into it. "Fuck my fist, doll." He breathed, grinning and biting Jack's ear lightly when Jack shivered and instantly started bucking his hips into the loose circle of Fontaine's fist.

After a bit of doing as he was told and finding that the friction was just too teasing, Jack whimpered softly. "Please, Daddy, your hand's too big for my little prick." He whined, knowing he'd said the right thing when Fontaine growled in his ear and gripped his dick tightly. Jack's hips stilled instantly and he let out a shuddering moan as Fontaine started jerking him hard. "C-can I cum, Daddy?" He asked softly, remembering how "Atlas" had punished him for cumming without permission.

"Only cuz ya been so good for me, baby doll." Fontaine whispered, adding a twist to his jerks and grinning against Jack's ear when he came with a loud moan. He kept jerking until Jack whined softly and shifted in discomfort and then decided to show some mercy and released Jack's dick, holding his soiled hand up to Jack's face once he'd let go. "Look at the mess ya made."

Flushing, Jack gently cradled Fontaine's hand in his hands and began to lick it clean. Once he was done, he kissed the palm gently and then released it, watching with a little smile as Fontaine inspected his hand and nodded in satisfaction. Before Fontaine could say anything, Jack was hugging him tightly, almost too tightly, and he was delighted when Fontaine laughed fondly and hugged him back. "I love you, Daddy." He whispered, feeling whole and happy for the first time since he'd stepped into Ryan's office.

"I love you too, doll." Fontaine whispered back, finally letting it sink in that he'd won. He'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted since learning about this glorified reverse fishbowl. Rapture itself, Andrew Ryan firmly beneath him, and Jack was really, truly, and officially his again. After twelve years and countless lies, countless lives, he had it all. It felt so unbelievably good to be Frank Fontaine in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll see each and every one of you in hell. *finger guns*
> 
> ALSO! feckinatlas on Tumblr made fanart for this chapter! (This is my favorite chapter, so I'm not ashamed to admit I squealed) https://feckinatlas.tumblr.com/post/633637736109260800/nsfw-warning Check it out!


	14. Poaching Mother Goose's Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost a month after Rapture's been taken, Fontaine and Jack set their sights on Tenenbaum's sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Frank Fontaine, Brigid Tenenbaum
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Size Kink, Size Difference, Biting, Daddy Kink, Blood Kink, Shotgunning, Footjob, Handjob, Burnplay, Sadism, Masochism, Marking, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Painful Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Snuff, Light Necrophilia, Unsafe Sex, Cumming Untouched, Drinking, Foot Massage, Smoking, Idolatry, Murder, Blood and Gore, Possessive Behaviour, Drug Use

It was shortly after getting his throat fucked by Fontaine that Jack finally got that hard drink and warm bath he'd been wanting since Arcadia. The best part of it was the warm body behind him, holding him close and idly tracing random shapes into his chest and abdomen. Jack had been through hell since finding himself back in Rapture, but right then, he felt like a king, like he was currently experiencing the very height of luxury.

It, without a doubt, made everything that had lead up to it worth it. Jack was faintly aware that he probably shouldn't be so content to let a bath, a glass of scotch, and some cuddles be his payment for the deep psychological scarring of the past twenty-four hours, but he couldn't very well find the will to care. Especially not when Fontaine squeezed him tightly and laid his head on his upper back.

"Have I ever mentioned how much it turns me on that you're so fuckin' huge?" Fontaine muttered against his skin, feeling Jack laugh softly before the sound actually left him. Jack was currently nestled between his legs and if Fontaine was just _slightly_ less flexible, it would be uncomfortable to have his legs spread so wide to accommodate Jack's massive hips.

"It was implied when you called me a walking wet dream, but I like hearing it." Jack muttered back, the scotch he was nursing burning his throat pleasantly as he swallowed it.

"Wanna fuckin' climb you like a tree." Fontaine growled, biting Jack's shoulder hard enough to draw a surprised sound from the younger man.

"Daddy." Jack mumbled, half aroused, half shy.

Scoffing, Fontaine gently kissed the welt he'd made on Jack's shoulder from biting him so hard. "Don't act all innocent. You're almost as nasty as I am."

Giggling softly, Jack finished his glass and set it aside on the little ledge on the tub where the bottle had been placed. "It still makes me blush when you talk like that." He mumbled, turning slightly and sinking down a bit so he could wrap and arm around Fontaine's neck and Fontaine could rest his chin on his shoulder. When Fontaine hummed and bit Jack's shoulder in a different spot, opening a wound from earlier and starting to nurse blood from it, it reminded Jack of something. "Hey, Daddy?" He said, getting a hum in response and smiling a little as Fontaine refused to stop sucking on the wound he'd made even as he looked up to catch Jack's eyes. "How come you can hurt me so easily?"

Grinning despite himself, Fontaine pulled away and licked a bit of stray blood and spit from his lips. "You tell me, doll. You're the person-shaped tank here, not me." He drawled, deciding to play dumb and see what Jack had come up with on his own.

Fontaine's grin and too-casual tone made Jack feel like he was up to something, but he decided to play along for now, leaning in to lick up a bit of bloody spit on Fontaine's chin before replying. "Well, at first I just thought it was because I felt safe enough around you to lower my defenses, but I didn't feel safe when you told me the truth, so now I'm thinking you had something to do with it." He explained, catching Fontaine's eyes and feeling strongly that he was onto something with how impressed Fontaine looked. "I think it was when we first had sex. There was this moment where your face sort of-- changed from one second to another. I thought I was just crazy, but now I think you did something I can't remember."

"You know, sometimes, and I mean this with as much love as possible, I think there was so much effort put into your muscles that your brains got left out." Fontaine started, cupping Jack's face and kissing him briefly before he could look too hurt. "But then sometimes you figure shit like that out and it makes me concerned for how much I can get away with before you catch on and call me out."

Smiling despite himself, Jack flushed proudly and then pouted, looking away as he realized Fontaine had just sweet-talked him into ignoring that he'd called him stupid. "So I'm right, then?" He asked after a bit, looking back at Fontaine again and feeling satisfied when Fontaine sighed in defeat.

"I mighta asked ya to _kindly_ let me hurt you. And given you some advice on how to explain it to yourself." He admitted, having hoped he'd thrown Jack off of his inquisition by flustering him. No such luck, of course. If nothing else, Jack was scarily good at getting something done once he'd decided it was a goal.

"I knew it." Jack mumbled, squinting accusingly at Fontaine. "What other commands have you made me forget?"

"None." Fontaine answered, making an X over his heart when Jack narrowed his eyes more. "Swear. Those two commands and the one that made you forget are the only ones." And it was the truth, after all. Jack hadn't asked what other commands Fontaine had given, just which ones he'd made him forget. As far as Fontaine was concerned, Jack didn't need to know about the one he'd received in his sleep. Ever.

After staring into Fontaine's eyes for a bit, Jack nodded in satisfaction and laid his head back against his chest again, a small, satisfied smile on his face and his eyes closed. There was still too much Adam in his system for Jack to feel tired, but he could certainly feel relaxed. Fontaine, however, seemed to be having a harder time just _being_ and soon his hands were roaming Jack's body again. Jack cracked his eyes open and saw that Fontaine looked lost in thought. "Penny for your thoughts." He muttered, smiling when Fontaine's eyes snapped to him, his hands stilling soon after.

"Just thinkin' 'bout all the work we gotta do t'get this hellhole up an' runnin' again." Fontaine replied, leaning back against the tub instead of on Jack.

Humming softly, Jack moved away from Fontaine, turning so he was facing the older man and settling back down. He then lifted Fontaine's legs and draped them over his own legs, taking one of Fontaine's feet into his hands and starting to massage it. "What do we need to do first?" He asked, glancing up at Fontaine's face and seeing that he was slowly relaxing against the tub, arms draped over the sides and head lolled back a bit. The sight made Jack smile even as he went back to watching what he was doing.

"Well, first we gotta get more Little Sisters under our control." Fontaine started, staring at the ceiling as he spoke. "We can't get Plasmids producin' again without a steady supply of Adam." He grunted lightly as Jack began to pop the joints in his foot but carried on quickly, the first pop just having surprised him. "Seein' as you put a sizable dent in the wild Little Sister population, we're gonna have to visit Tenenbaum's little reserve to get more."

Releasing Fontaine's foot, Jack blasted the water with Incinerate just until it got back up to steaming and then went back to what he was doing, an even larger smile playing his face as Fontaine groaned in pleasure. "That doesn't sound too hard. Do you know where she's located?"

"Got a good idea but it's sealed off. We'd need someone with some insane strength to break into it." Fontaine replied, flashing Jack a grin that Jack returned. "Luckily findin' someone to fit that bill oughta be even easier." He said as he reached over and poured himself a glass of scotch since Jack seemed to be done with it, leaning back again once he had his drink.

"Oughta be." Jack agreed, switching to Fontaine's other foot. As he was working his thumbs over the ball, Fontaine groaned again and Jack cut his eyes up to make sure he still looked like he was enjoying himself. He definitely was.

"Fuck, the only thing that'd make this better would be a cigar." Fontaine muttered, laughing a bit and taking a leisurely swig of his scotch.

"Where are they?" Jack asked, releasing Fontaine's foot.

"On the nightstand." Fontaine replied, waving a dismissive hand at Jack. "Don't worry about-- oh. Ah." Fontaine said, realizing what Jack was doing when he lifted one hand from the water and closed his eyes. Sure enough, after a moment, the box of cigars came floating into the bathroom and Jack opened his eyes in time to dry his free hand with Incinerate and pluck them from the air. He then dried his other hand as well and got a cigar out. When he started to put the box down on the ledge with the scotch, Fontaine spoke up. "Gotta clip the end off, doll." He instructed, nodding when Jack held up the little clip questioningly. Fontaine watched Jack do as he was instructed and then opened his mouth to take the offered end of the cigar between his teeth, inhaling deeply when Jack offered him a finger flame to light up with.

Once he had a lungful of smoke, Fontaine pulled the cigar from his mouth and beckoned Jack even closer. The kid tilted his head curiously as he came closer and Fontaine grinned before he could stop himself, a bit of smoke escaping his teeth before he could catch Jack's chin and seal their lips together. He began to exhale and Jack caught on quickly, his face heating up in Fontaine's hand as he inhaled. Once the smoke was transferred, Fontaine let Jack back off and he did, blushing darkly and releasing his own lungful of smoke.

"Thanks, doll." Fontaine murmured, smiling fondly when Jack giggled and moved back to his side of the tub to continue his foot massage.

"You're welcome, Daddy." He mumbled, smiling goofily and feeling positively giddy. He cleared his throat softly and tried to calm down but couldn't manage to get his smile to go down fully. "So, what happens after we ransack Tenenbaum's?" He asked, glancing up and smiling all over again when he caught Fontaine still watching him with that fond smile.

"Before I go sendin' you into Mother Goose's nest, we hafta take some precautions. She knows your trigger phrase, after all, and I ain't riskin' another episode like what happened with Ryan." Fontaine said, a frown replacing his smile when he thought about said incident.

"What sort of precautions?" Jack asked, not wanting to think of the whole Ryan incident anymore than Fontaine did. "I don't know if earplugs would work since reading the command is enough. If I see her say it, I might still obey her."

Releasing a breath of smoke, Fontaine nodded. "Ya might." He agreed, looking at Jack as he finished massaging the other foot. "Which is why I'm gonna change all of your trigger phrases." Jack's eyes widened and only grew wider when Fontaine crossed his legs on his lap, the bottom foot pressed firmly against Jack's dick.

"H-how many triggers do I have?" Jack stammered, shifting a bit and sighing softly in pleasure as Fontaine also shifted, adding more pressure to his dick before letting up again.

"Too fuckin' many." Fontaine grumbled, knocking back the last swallow of the scotch in his glass. "I'm only changin' the important ones. The rest I'm just gonna replace with gibberish. That's as close as I can get to erasin' 'em without completely rewritin' your brain." He reached over to refill his glass, the shifting, as well as some intentional movement on Fontaine's part, rubbing his foot against Jack's dick more. "I have just enough know-how coupled with the notes Suchong left behind to change what I need to, but I don't think I'd risk rewritin' your brain even if he were still here and I actually trusted 'im." He settled back down, grinning at Jack's flustered expression. "Too risky."

"So, that's our-- ah-- f-first goal, then?" Jack asked, his words breaking off into a moan when Fontaine lightly pinched the tip of his dick with his toes. As Fontaine worked him casually, the only indication that he knew what he was doing being the mischievous grin on his face, Jack slowly hardened. Apparently he didn't require much rest after he'd cum before he could get it up again, something that surprised him but that Fontaine seemed awfully pleased by. Not that Jack was complaining, mind, even as distracted as he was by the action going on under the water.

"Sure is. I dunno how long it'll take. I'm hopin' not longer than a week but I ain't tryin' t'kill ya either so if it ends up takin' longer, I'll just have to adjust some'a my plans." Fontaine replied, pressing down hard on Jack's dick and chuckling softly when his hips jerked. "Made my toes nice n' flexible poppin' 'em like ya did. Bet I could even--" Fontaine trailed off, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he started to slowly stroke Jack in the space between his big toe and second toe. As he found a rhythm, Fontaine's tongue was replaced by another grin.

"Jesus, Daddy." Jack whimpered, blushing darkly and watching through the water as Fontaine worked his dick. When he moved his foot away, Jack's hips bucked again and he whined softly, looking up at Fontaine questioningly but calming down instantly when he crooked his finger at him, beckoning him closer. He crawled over on his knees and straddled Fontaine's lap when he started leading him that way, wrapping his arms loosely around Fontaine's neck and looking into his hooded eyes.

"So fuckin' hot." Fontaine muttered, having set down his glass in favor of gripping Jack's dick. He started to stroke it slowly and growled lowly when Jack's eyes fluttered in pleasure. Taking a deep drag of his half-gone cigar, Fontaine cupped Jack's jaw with the hand holding said cigar and sealed their lips together again. As he filled Jack's lungs full of second-hand smoke, Jack's hips jerked and he made delicious little noises in his throat. When the smoke dissipated between them, Jack licked into Fontaine's mouth, but Fontaine pulled away before the younger man could get a proper kiss going.

Holding off on whining even though he wanted to, Jack watched as Fontaine took another deep pull on his cigar. The way the cherry lit up Fontaine's face in the dim light of the restroom was positively divine and Jack's hips jerked again even before Fontaine could grab his jaw and seal their lips together for another slow transfer. Jack was feeling somewhat light-headed and he wasn't sure if it was from the Eve in the cigar, the smoke being forced into his lungs, or the pleasure he was in, but it felt amazing whatever it was.

Stopping his movements as he noticed that Jack's hips were steadily jerking into his hand, Fontaine couldn't help but grin. Jack just kept right on fucking his fist, not even seeming to notice he was doing it, too dazed on lust and Eve to be aware of his own body's movements. Fontaine took yet another deep drag of his cigar and then one more after that before he was down to the stub. After the final transfer with Jack, Fontaine dug a fingernail into the slit of Jack's dick while putting the cigar out on his chest. Jack's hips stuttered and he moaned in a delicious mix of pleasure and pain as he came, making the water just a bit murkier.

"So, anyway," Fontaine started, tone casual as he tossed the cigar stub aside and swished his hand around in the water a bit to clean it off. "I was thinkin' we could get started soon on the whole changin' your triggers thing. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, after all."

"Sounds good, Daddy." Jack breathed shakily, a smile playing his face from where he was resting his head on Fontaine's shoulder. Even as he sat there, breathing heavily and finding he wasn't entirely sure if he'd survive being with Fontaine, Jack decided he didn't miss Atlas. This was all he needed. Fontaine was all he needed.

Much to Fontaine's frustration, the replacing of Jack's triggers took almost a month. There was only so much Jack could take all in one sitting since the changes were apparently extremely painful. Luckily, they had a steady supply of Adam from the Little Sisters that Jack hadn't managed to harvest to mix small batches of the Plasmid Suchong had concocted to brainwash Jack with in the first place, so that wasn't an issue. Jack tried to muscle through the pain as much as he could, but Fontaine forced him to stop whenever he got the feeling Jack was going to really hurt himself and then he'd make him rest for the rest of the day.

After three and a half weeks, Fontaine had managed to "erase" all of Jack's triggers except for a handful of ones he thought might be useful. The big one was the one that was the hardest to change. It took a week on its own and required some extra old-fashioned conditioning beyond the mind control Plasmid before it seemed like it had actually taken affect. Jack and Fontaine had been running tests in between treatments and it was during one of those tests after everything else had been finished that they finally had a breakthrough.

"Alright, here we go." Fontaine sighed, sounding as tired as Jack felt. "Would you kindly sit down?" He asked, perking up a bit when Jack didn't, simply looking uncomfortable for a moment before going back to tired. When he realized he was still standing, though, Jack grinned, all tiredness gone just like that. "Don't celebrate yet, doll." Fontaine said, licking his lips and taking a breath before speaking again. "Sit down, if you'd please."

Without a second of hesitation, Jack's ass found the cushion of the couch he was beside and he made a high-pitched noise of excitement when he realized he was sitting. Smiling now despite himself, Fontaine came closer. "Okay, would you kindly stand up?" Fontaine asked, holding his breath when Jack didn't. "Stand up, if you'd please." Jack stood and both men instantly rushed to eachother, meeting in a hug where Jack actually lifted Fontaine up and spun him around once before lowering him again. Fontaine was too happy to complain.

"Oh, Daddy, it worked." Jack breathed happily, relief coloring his voice underneath the happiness. He'd tried so hard to be strong for his Daddy during his retraining, but it had been like being tortured and Jack was so incredibly relieved to know that it was over. He felt strongly he could die a content man if he never had anyone rooting around in his brain or trying to mentally break him again.

"It fuckin' worked." Fontaine agreed, only slightly less relieved than Jack. Being casually rough with Jack was one thing, they both enjoyed that and it was fun. Having to do what he'd done to Jack in order to change his triggers had been more painful than he'd ever admit to anyone. It had been necessary, sure, and he was sure it would seem worth it once they'd both recovered, but it had been grueling to say the least. "I didn't write down shit, either, so me and you are the only two people on the planet who know your new triggers."

"I'm sure that was hard for you." Jack teased lightly, having witnessed Fontaine's meticulous filing system first-hand while he was being forced to rest one day. The man wrote down and filed away **everything**. Anything that seemed like it could be even remotely useful went into his filing cabinets and even some things that Jack couldn't imagine him ever needing. He wasn't sure if it was a compulsion or if it was Fontaine trying to be prepared for anything, but he'd found it sort of amusing regardless and had taken a few opportunities to poke fun at him about it since.

Laughing softly, Fontaine pulled away to glare playfully at Jack. "I'll have you know it was." He replied, pinching Jack's side lightly and grinning when Jack giggled and squirmed away from him, slightly ticklish where his waist was the thickest with the layer of fat that insulated his massive fucking muscles. It sort of drove Fontaine wild that he was the only person that would ever get to do that to Jack, tickle him and make him giggle all cute and shit. Just one of the many things to love about his kid, he supposed.

" _Sooo,_ " Jack started, swaying his hips a bit and looking down. "I know today was alot, but--"

"You're ready to get movin', ain'tcha?" Fontaine interrupted, grinning when Jack's shoulders slumped.

"I'm dying to kill something. Please tell me your people haven't cleared the way to Tenenbaum's." Jack said, looking at Fontaine hopefully.

"Nope. Been savin' it for ya, doll." Fontaine assured, kissing Jack lightly when he perked up. "Get dressed, I'll get the team ready."

Frowning, Jack caught Fontaine by the elbow as he was leaving, his grip just enough to get his attention without throwing off his walking momentum. Jack was aware that he could stop someone dead in their tracks with a grip like that and if they were walking fast enough when he caught them, there was likely to be some falling involved. Fontaine walked with power, a certainty to his strides that meant if he was stopped too abruptly, he was liable to end up on his ass. Jack knew this because it had happened exactly once and not again since. He'd felt horrible even though Fontaine had been in a good mood and laughed it off. "A team?" He asked, letting go of Fontaine's elbow. "I can handle it on my own, Daddy."

Smiling affectionately, Fontaine brushed his hand across Jack's jaw. "I know you can, doll. They're comin' along to poach the eggs while me and you deal wit' Mother Goose." He explained, smiling more as Jack's eyes widened in surprise.

"You're coming along?" Jack asked, smiling excitedly when Fontaine nodded.

"Been dyin' to watch you work close-up since you got here." Fontaine said, eyeing Jack up and down before settling his gaze on Jack's slightly flustered face. "Wear somethin' ya don't mind gettin' bloody." He added before leaving to get the crew they'd be taking with them together.

Hurrying to the closet, Jack grabbed an undershirt and one of the more ragged pairs of pants Fontaine's teams had found for him during the weeks he'd been getting retrained. Most of the clothes they'd found had been surprisingly intact, some of them had even been nice. Jack wasn't as picky as Fontaine was, of course, but it did feel nice to be able to match his Daddy. Fontaine had promised him new, specially tailored clothes once they got access to the surface. Jack didn't really see the point in paying that much for clothes he would probably ruin in a fight, but it seemed like the idea of spoiling him made Fontaine happy, so Jack wasn't about to complain.

Pulling on the clothes he'd picked out, Jack grabbed his belt and hurried downstairs. He didn't need any of his guns so he wasn't even going to bring them. His belt had two med-kits, his wrench, his radio, and more Eve hypos than he'd need attached to it. Really all he needed were the Eve hypos and his Plasmids, the rest was just for emergencies. Jack arrived in time to hear the end of Fontaine addressing the crew they were taking along.

"If it's comin' at Jack, let Jack handle it. You're here to corral the brats once we break into their nest, the firepower is just in case." Fontaine looked at his crew and then nodded, Jack getting the impression someone had asked a question to warrant all that. "Just stay outta his way and you'll be fine." He finalized, glancing back when Jack came up behind him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ready to go, doll?" Fontaine asked, squeezing Jack's hand back and smirking at him. He had his machine gun and pistol on his person, simply because he was paranoid and you never really knew how a simple mission might go in Rapture, but he was confident he wouldn't need them. Jack was the only weapon he was ever going to need.

"Ready, Daddy." Jack confirmed, offering the crew a shy wave that only a few of them were brave enough to return halfheartedly. The others just pretended not to notice. They were all still afraid of him. Even the ones who hadn't actually seen Jack do something to warrant fear had heard the stories. Jack supposed he didn't particularly mind that they were all afraid of him since he still had his Daddy and Fontaine wasn't afraid of him, but sometimes Jack wished they'd realize he wouldn't hurt them unless he had to.

It occurred to Jack as they were moving out that maybe it was Fontaine they were afraid of, not him. After all, if Fontaine told Jack to kill the entire crew they were with, Jack wouldn't question him, he just would. He wouldn't even feel bad about it. Okay, so maybe they were afraid of both of them, then. Jack was amoral and Fontaine was immoral and together they created a dangerous, unpredictable couple. When Jack thought about it like that, it made him smile. Luckily he was leading the group, so no one noticed.

The area around Fontaine's place, Mercury Suites as Jack understood it, was kept Splicer-free with a mixture of pheromone commands and constant surveillance. The area **outside** Mercury Suites, Olympus Heights as Jack understood it, was still infested. Not for long, though. Once the team breached the barricade that had been set up at the main entrance to Mercury Suites, Jack's arms lit up with Incinerate and the party started.

Oh, and what a party it was. Jack had truly missed fighting. It had been all he'd known since first returning to Rapture and the brutality of the underwater city had really grown on him. It might've also had something to do with his brain having been wired towards violence, but he tried not to think of how fake he really was when thinking of the things he enjoyed. His mind had been wired towards violence and he'd probably been conditioned to bond strongly with Fontaine in whatever form he took, but again, he tried not to dwell on those things. Jack was happy. **That's** what he chose to dwell on.

Using mostly his three favorite Plasmids, Jack lit Splicers on fire, electrocuted them, and even ripped them apart with his mind. He didn't really notice while in the thick of battle, but the Splicers were focusing on him in particular. Fontaine noticed. Fontaine had orchestrated it. Once he had Jack safe and sound in his penthouse, he'd sent out some commands using the unnecessarily complex pheromone system about Jack. Mostly to stop at nothing to kill him.

There'd been two reasons for that. It had firstly been a failsafe for Jack escaping. Fontaine wasn't under any delusions that his new Splicer army would've been able to actually kill Jack, but they could slow him down long enough for Fontaine to figure out how to lure him back. The second reason had come later once it became clear Jack was still his. He knew eventually he'd be setting his Ace loose to complete various tasks around Rapture and it simply wouldn't have done to let Jack roam unimpeded. If the way he was ripping through Splicers, appropriately enough, like he was made for it was any indication, Jack was happy with his decision to make him a target.

One more little thing Jack didn't need to know. Fontaine had been trying hard to keep from lying to the kid, but lying and keeping secrets were two very different things. If Jack ever asked him, he'd be honest, _probably_ , but Fontaine highly doubted he would. Speaking of targets, though, Fontaine looked back and saw that the team they'd brought along was much further back than they really needed to be. That made him snicker as he turned his attention back to Jack, but suddenly his team's want to stay so far back didn't seem so silly when Jack somehow managed to blow a Splicer up with Sonic Boom.

Blood and guts shot everywhere, instantly covering Jack and Fontaine, though to a somewhat lesser extent since he was also hanging a ways back from Jack, in gore. "Fuck." Fontaine laughed, wiping a bit of gore from his cheek and grinning at Jack when he looked back at him. The sight of Jack covered in blood, in color _finally_ , instantly wiped away Fontaine's grin and replaced it with a hungry look. They were at the entrance to the tunnel that would take them to where he suspected Tenenbaum's nest was and Jack had taken care of every single Splicer they'd come across on his own. It all hit Fontaine at once and he suddenly found himself feeling quite ravenous.

Recognizing the look on Fontaine's face, Jack flushed a bit under the layer of blood and other assorted viscera he was covered in and turned fully when Fontaine practically stormed up to him. As soon as he was within reach, Fontaine had a fist in Jack's hair and just as Jack went to moan, Fontaine's tongue invaded his mouth. Hands immediately flying to Fontaine's hips, Jack pulled the shorter man close and attempted to keep the delicate balance of kissing him back while keeping his tongue away from Fontaine's teeth. Unfortunately all that did was make his bottom lip a target.

Just as Fontaine was adding Jack's blood to the cocktail between them, someone behind them cleared their throat and Fontaine suddenly remembered they were doing something. He pulled Jack's lip out a bit before letting it go, a growl escaping him when Jack's elusive tongue poked out to swipe at his wounded lip briefly. Just as he was about to dive back in and catch that tongue at any cost, a soft, almost nervous "boss" from behind made him groan.

Covering his mouth to stifle a laugh as Fontaine practically tore himself from his grip and shot a glare back at his crew, Jack got back to work. The door blocking the tunnel was thick and metal. There was likely a proper way to open it, but Jack had never had time for the proper way to do things. Instead he heated the metal up to glowing and then punched both fists through the door, starting to rip the pliable metal like paper. The sound of metal tearing pierced the air and drew all of the attention in the area to him, but Jack just kept right on ripping until he'd made a hole large enough to fit through. He then blasted the hole with Winter Blast so it wouldn't burn anyone and passed through.

Grinning and immediately forgetting about how annoyed he was as Jack broke through, Fontaine stepped into the hole Jack had created after his Ace had and then looked to his crew as they also filed in. "Once we get in, block off any vents you see. If any of those little brats escape, it'll be your ass." He warned, getting the usual nervous affirmatives and turning his attention to Jack as he examined the next door. Apparently he decided this one wasn't worth anything fancy and simply caved in the middle a bit before forcing it open. It was still a treat to watch, that was for sure.

As soon as Jack was through, he moved out of the way so Fontaine's crew could storm the room and start blocking off vents. There were frightened screams from the not Little Sisters as the armed strangers broke into their home, but that didn't stop any of them from doing as they were told. Fontaine took the lead as his crew spread out and led the way further inside the sanctuary, Jack following close behind him. When a gun went off in front of them, Jack quickly pulled Fontaine behind him, the bullet scratching his shoulder as it made contact. Tenenbaum came out of a room separated from the rest of the sanctuary, a pistol held in her hands and anger in her eyes.

Before Tenenbaum could say anything, Fontaine spoke up from behind Jack, sounding smug. "Aim's just as shit as when ya were workin' for me. Glad Jack didn't learn from _you_." He drawled, stepping out from behind Jack and grinning smugly at Tenenbaum's shocked expression even as she aimed her gun at him.

"Fontaine?" She asked, looking and sounding like she didn't believe it.

"In the flesh." Fontaine said, spreading his arms before sliding both hands into his pockets casually. "Didn't _really_ believe I got gunned down way back when, didja? Smart dame like you, I expected better."

"What are you doing here?" Tenenbaum demanded, ignoring Fontaine's words and going from surprised back to angry. "You got what you wanted from the boy, why are you here terrorizing my little ones?"

"I got what I wanted from Jack, yeah, but I ain't even gotten started gettin' what I want from Rapture." Fontaine said, not seeming even the slightest bit worried about the gun still pointed at him. "For that, I'm gonna need my Little Sisters back."

"You cannot have them!" Tenenbaum shouted, firing again only for her bullets to be rendered useless by Jack's massive body blocking Fontaine again. "Jack! You have no idea the man you are helping! Move and you can be free of his control! You can make a life for yourself away from this place! Away from your sins." She pleaded, lowering her gun as she spoke and looking at Jack imploringly. "It is not too late for you, child. You can still make up for what you have done in this terrible place under that monster's guidance."

"Tempting." Jack said sarcastically, using Telekinesis to rip Tenenbaum's gun from her hand and bringing it to himself so he could crush it. "But I like it here and I like Frank. And besides that, I don't have any sins to make up for. Your "little ones" died for a good reason, I don't feel bad about it."

Face hardening, Tenenbaum clenched her jaw, shooting her glare at Fontaine when Jack moved aside to reveal his smug face. "Are you proud of yourself, Fontaine? One more monster you've created. One more sin to your name." She spat, jaw clenching all the more when Fontaine shrugged.

"Feelin' pretty proud, yeah." He replied, grin growing wicked as he turned a bit, catching Jack's jaw in his hand and pulling him down for a kiss. Jack returned it instantly with a pleased little sound and as tempting as it was to get lost in the moment, Fontaine kept the kiss brief, pulling away to smirk at Tenenbaum. "I think outta all the monsters I ever had you create, this one is my favorite. I'd like t'tell ya that'll earn you a quick death, but I'm gonna leave that up to my doll here."

Expression a mix of disgusted and still quite angry, Tenenbaum was still glaring hard at Fontaine. "He is a child, Fontaine. How have even you sunk so low?"

Snorting, Fontaine shook his head, letting out a chuckle. "Look, he might be technically young, but he's a man where it counts. You ain't gonna make this weird for me." He said, sliding his hands into his pockets again and looking up at Jack. "That's enough talkin'. Go on and kill her, doll." Fontaine ordered, looking back to Tenenbaum and feeling a thrill of excitement as she looked nervous.

"Jack, please. Do not do this." Tenenbaum said, backing away as Jack stepped forward, the magma cracks of Incinerate traveling up his arms. "I do not want to use them on you." She said more quietly, indeed looking very much like she didn't want to.

Now it was Jack's turn to grin and he tilted his head at Tenenbaum. "Go ahead." He taunted, tone challenging. Fontaine _had_ said he'd leave the speed of Tenenbaum's death up to him and if he wanted Jack to hurry up, he just needed to say so and he would. Until then, Jack felt it was okay to play a little. After everything he'd been through to get his triggers rewritten, he felt like he'd earned some fun.

Frowning deeply, Tenenbaum hesitated but her eyes widened when Jack raised one hand. "Would you kindly stop!" She shouted, screaming when Jack lit her on fire. It was only long enough to lightly burn her though and then a blast of cold made the flames disappear, leaving Tenenbaum lightly charred and shivering.

Sighing in mock disappointment, Fontaine shook his head drawing both Jack and Tenenbaum's attention. "Y'know, for a street rat, I always considered myself pretty smart." He said, a cruel smile breaking up his mock disappointment. "It didn't take me long to figure out how to change Jack's trigger phrase. It took a little while to make the new one stick, but we got there, didn't we, doll?"

"We sure did, Daddy." Jack replied, smiling as he realized Fontaine was having fun too.

"C-code Yellow." Tenenbaum stuttered, watching sadly as Jack grunted in pain and clutched his chest after a brief delay. Then there was a snap and she was on fire again, the flames persisting a little longer this time and the pain bringing her to her knees before the blast of cold came. Above her, Jack was grinning, clearly perfectly fine, and Fontaine was laughing.

"Tricky little minx, ain't he?" Fontaine asked, sounding fond. "No, we undid everything. Every. **Fucking**. Level of mental conditioning I had put in got ripped out and replaced." His voice had grown angry, it had taken weeks, after all, and been more work than brainwashing Jack in the first place, but he went right back to smiling far too quickly. "That's why it took so long to get around to ya." Fontaine explained, his tone almost chipper. "Now, stop playin' around and cook that goose, doll." He commanded, still smiling as he sentenced Tenenbaum to death.

"Yes, Daddy." Jack practically purred, snapping his fingers and watching as Tenenbaum was engulfed in an inferno. She screamed until all the oxygen in her lungs was burned up and then died, nothing but a charred husk left once the fire also died.

"Rest in peace, ya old broad." Fontaine muttered, looking and sounding quite content before clapping his hands together and rubbing them a bit. "Alright, time t'see how many brats we managed to catch." He announced, grinning at Jack.

Grinning back, Jack nodded and followed Fontaine back to where the soon-to-be Little Sisters had been wrangled by the crew. They were uncertain when Fontaine came back up the stairs, but all hell broke loose when Jack came up behind him. There were several little shrieks of fear and the not-Sisters actually moved to hide behind the guards spread about the room while trying to get away from Jack.

"Looks like they recognize ya, doll." Fontaine quipped, looking around at the cowering children and then at Terrance. "How many brats we catch?"

"Eighteen total." Terrance replied, frowning and glaring down at a child as she cowered behind his legs.

Giving a low whistle of appreciation, Fontaine nodded. "Not a bad start. Pretty damn good one, actually." He said, flashing Terrance a grin. "Keep 'em wrangled while I figure out how Mother Goose broke 'em in the first place."

"Will do, boss." Terrance replied, huffing at the girl behind him as she tugged on his pant-leg. She squealed and hid her face in his leg, still refusing to move out from behind him because Jack was watching her curiously.

"C'mon, doll." Fontaine said, starting to head back downstairs before stopping when he noticed how Jack was watching the brat behind Terrance. "'Less you wanna stay here and help with brat wranglin'." He said, raising an eyebrow at Jack when he finally looked at him and shook his head.

"No, Daddy." Jack replied, following Fontaine as he made his way to the room that Tenenbaum had come out of and started on a stack of papers on her desk. Did the Little Sisters communicate with these not-Sisters? How did these ones know to be afraid of him if not? If they communicated, why didn't **all** the Little Sisters avoid him like this? Were they just too trapped in their duty to try avoiding him? But then how did they find the time to gossip? A disbelieving laugh from Fontaine pulled Jack from his thoughts.

"She wrote all her research in German. Of fuckin' course she did." Fontaine muttered, searching the stacks of papers. "Thought she was so fuckin' clever."

"You can read German?" Jack asked, noticing how Fontaine still seemed to be searching for something specific.

"A little." Fontaine replied, setting papers aside as he looked them over. "Whenever I hired anyone that spoke somethin' other than English, I tried to learn enough of their mother tongue to eavesdrop. Never told any of 'em, o'course. I know a little German, Spanish, Russian, Chinese, and French."

"Wow." Jack breathed, coming closer when Fontaine made a triumphant sound and started flipping through a folder.

"Jackpot." Fontaine said, glancing over the notes in the folder and picking out what he could. "Looks like it was a Plasmid that made the brats up there look normal. Prolly the one she tried to get you to take." He said, glancing up at Jack before returning his attention to the folder and flipping a few more pages before pulling out one in particular. "And here's the formula." Shrugging off the bag he'd brought, Fontaine passed it over to Jack. "Set that shit out while I figure out how to reverse this."

Taking the bag, Jack did as he was told, setting out jars and beakers and other things he recognized from the lab where he and Fontaine had spent most of their time in the past few weeks. The last thing he pulled out was a carefully wrapped jar of Adam that he gently unwrapped before setting down. Fontaine had given Jack the occasional spoonful of Adam back in the lab for various reasons and it tasted good, he enjoyed it, but he'd grown rather fond of the Adam packaged in the slugs. Adam that had already been drained or partially processed just wasn't the same as biting into a slug and feeling the gush of warm, raw Adam on his tongue. Jack supposed that's how the Splicer's felt just with a craving for that warm rush. He enjoyed it, sure, but he didn't crave it, his body having been carefully constructed to be incapable of becoming dependent on Adam.

"Alright. Looks like ol' Mother Goose figured out how to make the slugs in the brats dormant. That's the specifics of the Plasmid. All I gotta do is wake 'em back up." Fontaine said, setting the paper aside and looking at his tools.

"Will you be able to?" Jack asked, watching curiously as Fontaine started mixing a Plasmid of his own.

"Think so. Shouldn't take much. Good punch in the gut might even do it, but I ain't gonna risk damagin' the slug by tryin' it." Fontaine replied, putting what he'd mixed over a flame and only taking it off once it had changed from red to sickly yellow-green. He then filled a syringe with a bit of it and handed it to Jack. "Okay. Go stick a brat in the stomach with this and tell me if it does anythin'." He ordered, watching Jack leave before he went back to looking over the notes Tenenbaum had left behind. If that batch didn't work, he needed to be ready with another one to try.

Walking back up to the room with the not Little Sisters in it, Jack looked around and chose the one still cowering with Terrance. She shrunk away from him when he crouched and reached for her but Terrance shifted so she couldn't get away and soon she was screaming and thrashing in Jack's strong grip. He tried not to hold her too tight, not wanting to hurt her if he didn't have to, but did end up having to wrap his arm tightly around her scrawny chest to hold her still enough to stick her in the stomach with the syringe. As the liquid emptied into her, the thrashing slowed and then stopped and as Jack looked at her face, he witnessed the almost instant change.

When Jack let the girl go, he let go of a Little Sister, her eyes glowing faintly, her skin a sickly green, and her mind clearly elsewhere. "Holy shit." Terrance muttered, taking a step away from Jack as he straightened up. "That worked like a charm."

"Sure did." Jack responded, flashing Terrance a delighted grin before returning his attention to the new Little Sister. "Frank's gonna be so happy."

"Do you call 'im that to his face?" Terrance asked quietly, making Jack look at him in surprise.

"Um-- well, sometimes." Jack mumbled, flushing a bit and suddenly feeling sort of embarrassed though he couldn't place why. "I pretty much only call him Daddy, though." After eyeing Jack for a moment longer, Terrance nodded a bit and looked away, Jack taking that as his cue to leave quickly. Ever since Jack realized he was an awkward person, he'd thought it had something to do with his fake memories, but now he had confirmation that it was just a part of who he was. A part of Jack figured it was the social isolation from his two total formative years before his files said he was sent to the surface but he supposed there was no knowing for sure.

"The Plasmid worked, Daddy." Jack announced as he returned to Fontaine, smiling at him and brushing aside thoughts of his social ineptitude. "It barely took any time at all and the kid was a Little Sister again."

"Fuckin' fantastic." Fontaine acknowledged, setting aside the folder he'd been perusing and focusing on mixing a much larger batch of the Plasmid instead. Once it was finished, he passed it to Jack. "Hold this, doll." He ordered, packing up the portable lab he'd brought along as well as some of the documents and folders that looked too important to leave to whoever he assigned to get it all back to his office. Fontaine then took the Plasmid from Jack and gave him the pack instead, heading out of Tenenbaum's room and back up to the brats, Jack following close behind with the pack secured on his back.

"Alright, you wrangle the little shits and I'll do the injectin'." Fontaine ordered, making sure his cuffed sleeves were secure before filling up the syringe Jack had returned with.

"Yes, Daddy." Jack replied, getting to work doing just that. Some of the soon-to-be Little Sisters tried to run, but that's what the crew was there for. Some of them tried to fight, but their little punches and kicks didn't faze Jack beyond a slight frown and that was only because the punching and kicking was more wiggling he had to fight against to hold them still. All-in-all, the conversion of the seventeen remaining girls back into Little Sisters took less than half and hour and Jack gratefully wiped his hands off on the back of his pants when he was finished. Their skin always became sort of clammy once it turned green and Jack was grateful he wouldn't have to touch them anymore, the feeling a decidedly unpleasant one.

"Set 'em loose." Fontaine announced, tossing the syringe aside and watching his crew move away from the vents. The Little Sisters' mental conditioning kicked on instantly and they started climbing into the vents, all of them gone in no time. They'd get adopted by the remaining Big Daddies and provide the perfect boost in Adam that Fontaine needed to get some of the cheaper Plasmids producing. "I want every last scrap of paper in Mother Goose's little office brought to my place." He ordered, not looking at anyone in particular and reaching over to wrap an arm around Jack's waist. "Once that's done, ya can all take a break."

After the chorus of "yes, sir" and "yes, boss" and such, Fontaine left with Jack, a content smile on his face. It warmed Jack's heart to see his Daddy so happy and he couldn't help but glance down at him every few steps to catch that pleased expression. On one such glance, Fontaine caught his eye and Jack flushed, quickly looking away.

"Busted." Fontaine muttered, suddenly pushing Jack up against a wall and boxing him in at the hips with his arms.

Flushing darker, Jack offered Fontaine a shy smile. "Sorry, Daddy. I just really like it when you're so happy. I haven't gotten to see that smile much lately." He explained, wrapping his arms loosely around Fontaine's neck. Jack often wished he was shorter and not as wide. He wanted Fontaine to be able to dominate him in every way even if he'd never actually be physically strong enough to do so. But, Fontaine often commented on Jack's size and how much he loved it, so Jack tried to keep that in mind. It wasn't like his size made Fontaine shy away from opportunities to _act_ physically dominant anyway, like right now, so it wasn't like Jack was missing out on that much.

"Ain't gotta apologize, doll." Fontaine practically purred, smirking up at Jack. "I'm yours t'look at whenever ya want."

Letting out a breath as Fontaine's words hit him equally hard in the heart and the dick, Jack moved forward to kiss the older man. Fontaine was all too happy to return the kiss and instantly went to trying to catch Jack's tongue between his teeth. Jack put up a token effort to keep his tongue away but then let Fontaine catch him, moaning lowly as he instantly bit hard enough to draw blood. Fontaine practically snarled as his mouth was filled with Jack's blood and the kiss quickly grew much more intense. By the time Fontaine pulled away, both men were breathless with blood and spit shining on their lips and chins.

"Think it's about time I show you how much I appreciated finally gettin' t'see you covered in blood in color." Fontaine growled, the hungry look in his eyes making Jack feel like he was equally likely to get fucked to within an inch of his life as he was to have his throat torn out. An odd look suddenly appeared on Jack's face and Fontaine tilted his head a bit, the hungry look replaced by curiosity. "What's that face for, doll?"

"Are the Vita-Chambers still set to revive me if I die?" Jack asked quietly, a weird, dark idea brewing in his mind.

"Yeah?" Fontaine replied, leaning away from Jack and looking at him in confusion. "You, me, and Ryan."

Shifting a bit in uncertainty, Jack looked away from Fontaine. "I-I got a weird idea, Daddy." He muttered, glancing over at Fontaine and seeing that his expression was now equal parts confused and curious.

"Well, don't leave me in suspense, doll." Fontaine said, waving a hand at Jack in a "go ahead" motion. "I'm still hard enough to cut glass over here, though, so I hope it's goin' with the theme of what I was talkin' 'bout." He added, grinning when that made Jack flush all over again.

"It is. Well, mostly." Jack muttered, brushing a hand over his throat and not catching the way Fontaine's attention instantly snapped to it until he lowered it and saw Fontaine's eyes return to his face. Swallowing audibly, Jack took a breath and decided to just get his idea out there instead of worrying about how it might sound. "Do you think, when we're both close to-to-- y'know-- you could--" He cut off, licking his lips as he lost his nerve and sort of just wrapping his hand loosely around his own throat and then making an outwards pulling motion. "W-with your teeth?" He managed to add, glancing up again and shrinking a little at the dark look in Fontaine's eyes.

"Are you askin' me to tear your throat out while I fuck you?" Fontaine asked softly, his tone intentionally hard to read. Jack shrunk a little more and Fontaine couldn't keep a growl from bubbling out of him from deep in his chest.

"Yes." Jack practically whispered, body going stiff in a fight reflex when Fontaine advanced on him. He stopped himself from moving, though, and Fontaine grabbed his wrist hard, practically dragging him up to his penthouse.

"Hope you're sure about this, doll, cuz now you're gettin' your throat torn out whether you like it or not." Fontaine growled, shoving Jack against the back of the elevator and descending on his throat after pushing the button to get them moving up.

Pressing his hands to the elevator so he wouldn't accidentally crush Fontaine's hips, Jack tilted his head back and let out a few frantic breaths as Fontaine started marking him from just under his ears to just before his shoulders. "I-I'm sure." He breathed, moaning loudly in a mix of pleasure and pain and lightly smacking the elevator as Fontaine bit down hard on his collar and pulled, bringing the skin up with his strong grip before releasing it to lap up the blood he'd drawn. "Fuck, Daddy, please." Jack whined, bucking his hips and impatiently pushing gently on Fontaine's chest when the elevator stopped.

Chuckling darkly, Fontaine pulled away, catching Jack's wrist again and dragging him into the downstairs lounge just off the entryway. He practically threw Jack onto the largest couch, the action only possible because, even practically drunk with lust, Jack understood what Fontaine was trying to do and worked with him, and climbed on top of him, kneeling with his knees holding down Jack's arms and straddling his chest. Fontaine freed himself and Jack instantly opened his mouth, making him grin as he shoved his cock into Jack's eager mouth. "Get it good n' wet, doll, this is all you're gettin' for lube."

Eyes fluttering, Jack got to work lavishing Fontaine's cock with attention, trying to get it as wet as he could. They'd managed to fuck with actual lube once or twice since Fontaine had cracked the joke about it that one day, but since sex between them often started randomly, there wasn't usually lube handy. Whenever there was, Fontaine was usually too impatient to get it. Not that Jack didn't have his impatient moments, of course, but Fontaine was something else once he really got going. Jack would be a filthy liar if he said there wasn't something weirdly exciting about the sex they had hurting as often as it felt amazing, though, so it wasn't as though the lube was missed by either party.

Getting off of Jack after he'd decided he was wet enough, Fontaine finished removing his clothes and Jack quickly got naked as well. The moment the last article of clothing was on its way to the floor, Fontaine was on top of Jack again, this time getting between his legs and pushing himself into the younger man all in one rough go. He and Jack made similar sounds of pleasure-pain and then Fontaine was thrusting with all the vigor of a man half his age thanks to the all the lust that had been building inside him all day.

Throwing his head back in an open invitation, Jack moaned happily as his already sore neck was attacked once again. He wrapped one leg loosely around Fontaine's hips and dropped the other off the couch to give them more room. It occurred to Jack as he heard the door to the penthouse opening that they were making alot of noise, but that didn't stop him from calling out "Daddy" as Fontaine rammed into his prostate for the first of many coming times. He'd hated that Ryan had heard his and "Atlas'" radio sex that time in Arcadia, but after having his fake memories erased, he'd found he no longer cared what anyone else saw or heard. It was just another way of letting all of Rapture know that he belonged to Fontaine, after all, so why should he be embarrassed?

"Gotta tell me when you're gettin' to the edge, doll." Fontaine panted in Jack's ear, biting it roughly before carrying on. "Gonna send you over both edges within seconds of eachother if I can." When Jack shivered and gave him an eager nod with a stuttered out "I will, Daddy" it made Fontaine realize how happy he was that Jack was just as fucking broken as he was. He didn't have to pretend to be stable or _nice_ around Jack because Jack loved everything about him. Every up and down, every gentle kindness and rough cruelty, Jack took it all and came back for more with a smile on his face. _Perfect._ Yeah, that was the word for Jack: perfect.

Hips jerking up to meet Fontaine's rough thrusts, Jack was torn between rushing towards his orgasm and trying to stave it off as long as he could. On the one hand, his dick was already ridiculously hard and leaking quite a bit, but on the other hand, he wanted even more badly than Fontaine to cum seconds before dying. Jack didn't know why, couldn't tell anyone what had gotten the idea in his head or why it was so appealing, but he wanted it **badly** now that he'd thought of it.

Though he hadn't known it until Jack asked for it, Fontaine had always wanted to do this. He'd had ideas of a similar nature before, choking a partner too long or pulling the trigger while he made someone suck on his gun, but never something so visceral and personal and **bloody**. **_Fuck_** , he couldn't wait for the blood. The knowledge that he was going to be the reason Jack was going to be covered in blood, his own blood no less, was driving Fontaine fucking wild. He could wait, though, he could hold off until he was watching the light in Jack's eyes die and he would.

"Daddy, I-- _oh god_ \-- I-I can't hold it anymore." Jack whimpered a shorter time than he'd wanted later. He couldn't help it, though. He was so turned on, it was getting near impossible to keep himself from cumming. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Fontaine's mouth was stretched wide over his throat and then he was biting down harder than ever before. White hot pain shot off behind Jack's squeezed-shut eyelids and his hips jerked hard enough to knock Fontaine off his rhythm for a thrust or two. Before he could get in enough breath to scream, Fontaine was pulling back with as large a hunk of his throat as he could manage, blood instantly spilling out of the wound and filling Jack's mouth, making it impossible to draw breath.

Spitting Jack's throat out, Fontaine leaned down to his ear. "Cum for me, doll. Keep your eyes open and gimme your last breath." He growled, pulling back up to kiss Jack, lapping the blood greedily from his mouth as he started to shake in orgasm. He kept his eyes on Jack's and Jack obediently kept his eyes open, kissing Fontaine back weakly until the light in his eyes died and his shaking stopped. Like he'd just been punched in the gut, Fontaine's face screwed up and he groaned loudly as he came, having just enough time to finish before Jack's body started to recreate itself in the Vita-Chamber in the lab.

Slowly, the one underneath Fontaine disappeared, leaving only the blood staining the couch and floor. He'd had just enough time to burn the image into his mind before Jack's body was completely gone. Sitting up, Fontaine took a moment to catch his breath and bask in what he'd just done. He was shaking and felt more high than he could remember ever feeling before, no drug in the world able to compare to the power high of ripping the throat out of a nearly unstoppable killing machine with his bare teeth.

After catching his breath and coming down a bit, Fontaine put his pants back on and made his way to the lab, ignoring the startled and confused looks he was getting from his crew as he passed them soaked in blood and shirtless. Fuck what they thought. Let them be afraid of him, all of his old crews had been. He'd never done anything quite like this with his old crews, but he hadn't had Jack then, either. The kid definitely fueled his fire and at this rate, he'd be worse than a boogeyman by the time Rapture was ready to receive surface guests, he'd be a full-fledged fucking nightmare.

Grinning at the thought, Fontaine walked into the lab just in time to offer Jack his hand as he tumbled out of the Vita-Chamber. After getting his bearings for a moment, Jack took it and let him pretend he was helping. Fontaine still wasn't under any delusions, he knew he couldn't lift Jack on his best day, but it was the thought that counted. "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Fontaine asked, still grinning. Quite suddenly, though, he was being lifted up and pressed against the wall, Jack supporting him easily with a hold under his ass and Fontaine's eyes widened in surprise.

Before Fontaine could ask him what he was up to, Jack started licking his own blood from Fontaine's face, neck, and chest. Fontaine practically purred and instantly relaxed in Jack's hold and that made him smile. Jack placed a gentle kiss to Fontaine's throat in between licking but paused long enough to reply. "It was amazing, Daddy. Thank you so much." He mumbled happily, still quite high on the feeling of having his last breath fucked out of him despite the regeneration he'd just been through.

Chuckling fondly, Fontaine wrapped his arms loosely around Jack's neck and sighed as he continued to lick him. "Ya just thanked me for rippin' your fuckin' throat out and fuckin' you while you died."

Pausing, Jack realized Fontaine was right and he laughed softly, looking embarrassed. "Yeah, I sure did." He mumbled, smiling happily despite his embarrassment at Fontaine's fond smile.

"Not that I don't appreciate the tongue bath, but I am still gonna want a shower." Fontaine pointed out, grinning as Jack seemed to realize what he was doing and started to put him down. He tightened both the legs wrapped around Jack's waist and the arms around his neck. "Carry me." Fontaine murmured, looking quite pleased as Jack smiled in amusement and did as he was told, strutting from the lab naked as the day he was engineered and heading for the bedroom, not a hint of shame to be found in his massive, perfect fucking body.

After a nice, long shower, Fontaine and Jack were relaxing on their massive bed, Fontaine on his back with Jack curled up against his body. "So, we have plenty of Little Sisters to get Adam now. How long until Plasmids are back in production?" Jack asked after a bit, not feeling so incredibly huge snuggled up against Fontaine with the older man's arm around him, drawing gentle shapes in his back interspersed with the occasional bite of his fingernails.

"Already got like three teams on that." Fontaine replied, lightly running his nails down Jack's back. "I'm startin' with the shit that has the most market value for the lowest Adam cost like Incinerate and Winter Blast. I'll work up to Telekinesis. Gotta feelin' that one's gonna be _real_ popular but I can't afford the Adam to start mass producin' it 'til I know for sure my marketin' ace is still out there somewhere."

Making a curious sound, Jack looked up at Fontaine. "Another ace?"

Smiling, Fontaine looked down, shaking his head. "Not like you, doll. Guy named Augustus Sinclair. He was one'a my biggest rivals durin' Rapture's heyday." He explained, smile edging into fond territory as he looked back up at the ceiling. "Man was a two-faced son of a bitch, but he could sell salt to the ocean. If anyone's gonna make Plasmids sound worthwhile despite all their nasty side-effects, it's gonna be Sinclair. Hopefully he's still kickin'."

"So I'm going on a search and retrieve mission next?" Jack asked excitedly, eager to help his Daddy any way he could even if it meant being away from him for awhile.

"Bingo, doll." Fontaine replied, turning his grin on Jack once more. "Soon as we're both rested up, we'll get ya all geared up and set ya loose whereabouts I think Sinclair might be holed up. Should be lotsa Splicers around those parts for you to exterminate, too, so you should have loads'a fun."

Smiling brightly, Jack snuggled into Fontaine's side. "Can't wait, Daddy." He said happily, smiling more when Fontaine chuckled. Despite everything he'd been through since returning to his home, Jack couldn't help but feel so incredibly lucky to be him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After hours of exhaustive research *cough* listening to every scrap of dialogue in the game multiple times *cough*, I have come to the realization that Fontaine only pronounces the "g" at the end of "ing" words when he's pissed. Dunno if that was intentional, but he always lops 'em off otherwise.


	15. Playing Dentist (Skippable)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a particularly tiring day of retraining, Fontaine and Jack decide to take a break to torment Ryan.
> 
> This is set in the weeks of Jack's retraining and is an optional, skippable chapter. It's all from Ryan's PoV because I noticed in the other chapter where he's hurt, there was a distinct lack of his feelings on the matter. Now he gets a whole chapter for his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Andrew Ryan, Frank Fontaine, Jack
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Andrew Ryan, Fontaine/Jack/Ryan
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Tooth Extraction, Sadism, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Face-Fucking, No Lube, Painful Sex, Father/Son Incest, Spitroasting, Forced Orgasm, Unsafe Sex, Torture, Electrocution, Coercion, Psychological Torture, Humiliation, Murder, Brainwashing

Keeping track of time in Rapture had always been rather difficult without the sun to go by, but the citizens had made due with clocks and careful calendar keeping. Without either, it was extra difficult for Ryan to discern how long he'd been trapped in Fontaine's penthouse. He did eventually learn to by when he was brought food and what was brought. Once he'd done that, he'd been able to discern that he'd been trapped for a little over a week.

One would think figuring something like that out would be somewhat gratifying, a mystery solved, but it only served to annoy Ryan. In that time, Fontaine had apparently become able to afford the time and man-power to have a Vita-Chamber installed in his prison. That wasn't the only new addition to his prison, either. Fontaine's people had also transformed the wardrobe across from the bed into a place for all the tools Fontaine and his pet would likely be using on him the next time they chose to torment him.

It was exceedingly frustrating to think that Fontaine was surely doing quite well running **his** city if he could waste time on such things. Unfortunately, it seemed very much like that was the case and in all honesty, as much as Ryan loathed to admit it even just to himself, it made sense. Fontaine had always been good at getting things done. Efficient. Ryan could admit that grudgingly at least to himself.

With the Vita-Chamber had come other things. He was now allowed a razor to keep up with the stubble that had started to come in since his imprisonment. He was also given knives with his meals now when he was fed something that would require it. All that any of that meant was that Fontaine was confident he'd set up the Vita-Chamber correctly. Ryan wouldn't know. The room was kept locked and he'd had no luck trying to pick it thus far thanks to the lock being of the genetically keyed variety. Ryan couldn't so much as wiggle the damn thing.

Overall, Fontaine was simply doing far too well for Ryan's liking. Though his first round of torment had brought him rather low for the first few hours afterwards, Ryan had managed to turn those feelings into spite and anger since then. If Fontaine really thought some depraved torment and spouted lies was going to break him, he had no idea who he was dealing with. It was with that firm resolve that he met Fontaine's eyes when next he visited, a few days after the Vita-Chamber had been installed, with his pet close behind him.

They both looked tired. Exhausted, even. It was gratifying to say the least even though Fontaine still smirked at him like he hadn't a care in the world. "You look awful, Fontaine." Ryan greeted, setting aside the book he'd been holding and not actually reading. The only books that had been provided to him were Communist propaganda books and smut novels. He hadn't given the propaganda more than a passing eyeroll, knowing full well it was a stupid joke on Fontaine's part, but he'd been at least browsing the others to see if they were even somewhat palatable in his oppressive boredom. They weren't.

Much to Ryan's frustration, though he was careful not to show it, Fontaine only grinned at his jab. "Looked in a mirror lately, Ryan?" He asked, looking Ryan up and down and making him acutely aware that he still didn't have a shirt.

Though he was overcome by a wave of self-consciousness, Ryan managed not to squirm in the chair he hadn't bothered to leave and successfully resisted the strong urge to cover himself. "You must be as tired as you look if the best you can do is "no, you"." He said coolly, keeping his feelings from his voice and face. He'd be making regular use of that Vita-Chamber before he ever gave Fontaine the satisfaction of seeing how uncomfortable being so underdressed made him.

Smile becoming a bit more genuine, Fontaine nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I am." He admitted, glancing over to his pet and drawing Ryan's attention to him as well. The great brute was lying on the foot of his bed, eyes closed and legs hanging off the edge. "We both are." Fontaine continued, returning his gaze to Ryan. "Which is why we're here to fuck with you. Nothin' raises the spirits like breakin' someone else's."

Scoffing, Ryan looked away from Fontaine disinterestedly. "How unfortunate for you and your pet then that my spirit won't be broken." He replied calmly, glaring over when a laugh came from the bed.

"God, I hate your voice so much." The brute on the bed mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face before propping himself up on his elbows and looking at Ryan tiredly. "I'd cut your tongue out if we weren't planning on making you use it."

Clenching his jaw, Ryan managed to keep himself from shuddering at the many implications that statement brought with it and simply glared at the creature across from him. "I suppose it makes sense that you would be enamored with poorly spoken English given who you belong to. I'm sure the fact that I speak the language properly offends you greatly." The beast's eyes darkened and Ryan sneered at him before a chuckle from Fontaine drew both of their attention.

"I don't talk _that_ bad." Fontaine said, looking amused.

"I've heard foreigners speak English with more care and respect than you've ever given it." Ryan replied calmly, motioning at himself. "Case in point."

"Are you **sure** he needs his tongue, Daddy?" The beast asked, looking at his master pleadingly.

"Yup." Fontaine replied firmly, a dark grin suddenly splitting his face. "He don't need his teeth though." He said darkly, Ryan's eyes widening despite himself as Fontaine's pet got off the bed excitedly and moved to the wardrobe.

Try as he might to remain strong, Ryan couldn't help but shrink back as Fontaine's pet returned quickly with pliers. "I don't think I'll be able to get a grip on his teeth with my fingers, but I'm gonna try." He told his master, smiling a perfectly matching dark grin. "I think it'll bother him more to have my fingers in his mouth." He finished, flashing his grin at Ryan and narrowing his eyes when all he got for his efforts was a scowl. Ryan wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing how disgusting he indeed found that idea.

Smiling proudly, Fontaine pulled his pet into a brief kiss. "I fuckin' love you, doll." He muttered, sounding so sickeningly sincere that Ryan had to resist the urge to gag.

"I love you too, Daddy." The beast replied, smiling like a child at Christmas. Disgusting. Disgusting the both of them.

"Alright, where ya wanna do this?" Fontaine asked, looking at Ryan once again. "Tooth removal is a messy process." Ryan's eyes must've widened in horror again because Fontaine grinned and suddenly looked thoughtful. "Unless--" He murmured, glancing over at his pet, who was frowning at him, before turning his attention back to Ryan. "Unless you wanna try askin' Jack real nicely not to take your teeth out. I bet if you threw in a sincere apology for treatin' 'im so bad, he'd figure out a different, less painful way to hurt ya."

Gaping at the very suggestion, Ryan scoffed and schooled his face back into a scowl. "Absolutely not!" It bothered Ryan greatly that the brute in question looked relieved at his refusal, but he wouldn't apologize to that animal let alone **beg**.

Humming a bit, Fontaine shrugged and looked to his pet once more. "I don't care where ya do it, doll."

Nodding once, the beast looked Ryan over, looking considerate, and then picked him up, hauling him over his shoulder and carrying him like that. Ryan briefly entertained the idea of struggling but there wasn't really any point. The brute was much stronger than he was, there would be no escape. After depositing Ryan on the bed, the beast straddled his hips, Fontaine sitting down nearby to watch. "Will you hold these for me, Daddy?" He asked, holding the pliers out to his master.

"'Course, doll." Fontaine said, taking the pliers and moving until he could lay Ryan's head in his lap, holding his head on either side with his hands. "If he starts to black out, try shockin' 'im. If that don't work, I'll get some adrenaline from the lab."

"Right." The brute replied, forcing Ryan's jaw open easily and immediately sticking his thumb and forefinger into his mouth. Strain as he might, Ryan was unable to bite him, his efforts only enough to make the beast flash him a smirk before he gripped his first tooth, one of the ones in the back, and began to pull.

Unable to stop it due to the fingers in his mouth, Ryan groaned in pain, starting to squirm. Then the brute added more force and the tooth came loose, the beast letting out a delighted laugh as Ryan cried out in pain. His nails dug into the bed underneath him as he tried to escape but there was no fighting Fontaine and his pet's combined strength. The beast grabbed another tooth.

By the third tooth, Ryan was shaking and crying, unable to grit his teeth to keep the pathetic sounds he was making from leaving him. By the fifth tooth, he could feel Fontaine's erection digging into the back of his head and by the seventh, his pet's digging into his waist. By the tenth tooth, Ryan could feel himself slipping from consciousness before a bolt of electricity woke him up while simultaneously lighting up every raw nerve in his bloody mouth. Beyond his scream, he heard Fontaine groan in pleasure.

"Just about done with the bottom row." Fontaine hummed once Ryan stopped screaming, patting his face on the injured side and snickering when Ryan tried to cower away. "Really shoulda taken my offer."

"I'm glad he didn't." The beast said darkly, forcing Ryan's mouth open once again and picking up where he'd left off.

"Yeah, me too." Fontaine admitted, a grin in his voice that Ryan couldn't see due to his swimming eyes.

Ryan was trying very hard not to regret his decision, but by the fourteenth tooth, the end of the bottom row, he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist if he was given the offer again. He also wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not when it didn't. By seventeen teeth, Ryan was certain he would do anything Fontaine's depraved mind could come up with to make the torment end. By twenty-one, he was blacking out again but yet another shock stopped him from being claimed by the relief of the void. He was sobbing now, sobbing and thrashing. Neither meant anything to his captors.

Twenty-four teeth came and went and Ryan exhausted himself. He hadn't even the energy to sob anymore, though his tears were constant now and he jerked involuntarily whenever a tooth was pulled out. By twenty-seven, Ryan was sure the torment would never end, that he was wrong about Hell and its existence and that he was currently trapped there, doomed to an eternity of this. Then the twenty-eighth tooth was extracted and the beast finally removed his fingers from his mouth.

"Looks like you didn't need those pliers after all, doll." Fontaine hummed, forcing Ryan's mouth open so he could admire his bleeding gums before letting him close it again. "Got all those pearly whites out in no time." No time? It had taken an eternity! Hours at least! "Not even half an hour. Gotta be some kinda record." Ryan felt sick. How had that only taken less than thirty minutes? Ryan felt like he'd been in pain for days!

"It would've gone quicker, but it got a little harder once his mouth started filling with blood." The beast replied, getting off of Ryan. "It took a much stronger grip to pull them out once they got all slippery."

"I bet." Fontaine said fondly, a smile in his voice that Ryan still couldn't see. A single light tap to his cheek made Ryan cringe and jerk, his bleary eyes trying to focus on Fontaine. "Oh good, you're still awake." He said pleasantly, Ryan's swimming eyes focusing enough to allow him to see his darkly pleased expression. "So, here's what's gonna happen now that my doll's done playin' dentist with you." Fontaine started, his grin far too amused and more than a little sadistic. "You're gonna be a good boy and play enthusiastic while I fuck your face and in return, I'll kill you when I'm done with you instead of makin' you live without your teeth for awhile."

Before Ryan could even consider the offer, he was nodding, willing at this point to agree with anything he had to. Once he wasn't in pain anymore, he would look back on himself now and feel disgusted for his weak resolve, but at the moment Ryan just wanted to get whatever he had to over with so he could reach that relief. If "playing enthusiastic" got him a quicker trip through a Vita-Chamber, or just death if the Vita-Chamber had been installed incorrectly, fingers crossed, then that's what he'd do.

"That'a boy." Fontaine said cruelly, toppling Ryan off the bed before swinging his legs over the edge and freeing his straining erection. After weakly hauling himself up into a kneeling position, Ryan got to work, hissing softly the first time Fontaine's member bumped against his bleeding gums but not getting a chance to try and adjust to the new pain as Fontaine started moving his head at his desired pace. Fresh tears started to spill down Ryan's cheeks but he tried his hardest to muscle through the pain and use his tongue as much as he could while Fontaine controlled him.

In what Ryan figured was only minutes since it felt like hours, Fontaine began moving his head faster and then spoke up. "Why don't you take the other end, doll?" He questioned, holding Ryan's head still to make him choke for a bit when he shuddered.

"It was bad enough having my tongue inside him, I don't wanna put my dick in there." The beast muttered, Ryan feeling a glimmer of hope at his disgusted tone even as Fontaine kept moving his head. There was silence that Ryan used to try and focus on acting like he was enjoying this even a little before Fontaine spoke up again.

"You could put a condom on." He suggested, freeing a hand to snap his fingers. "Oh! You could even cut a slit in the tip so you can still give our bottom bitch here the joy of bein' filled with his own son's cum." Fontaine added, Ryan holding his breath, and not just because Fontaine was choking him again, as there was more silence.

"I guess that sounds kinda fun." The beast admitted after a bit, Ryan feeling a fresh wave of despair and disgust.

"Condoms are in the nightstand." Fontaine informed, the sound of the door opening and closing again coming before he pulled Ryan off himself and grinned down at him. "Now we're gonna play a little game, Ryan." He informed, his erection covered in Ryan's own blood but standing just as hard as ever. "You're gonna take your son like a good little bottom bitch when he gets back or I'm gonna put the idea of skinnin' you alive into his head. Understand?"

Eyes widening in horror, Ryan nodded quickly, not wanting to take that vulgar beast but wanting even less to be skinned by him. "Good." Fontaine purred, stroking Ryan's cheek and chuckling when he flinched. "Don't be too dramatic, now, or he'll know I had somethin' t'do with it. Just resist the urge to fight and I'll keep my bright ideas to myself." Ryan nodded once again, unable to answer verbally due to how much pain his mouth was in, but Fontaine didn't seem to mind the non-verbal responses and was back to fucking his face before the beast returned.

"Find 'em alright, doll?" Fontaine asked casually when the door opened and closed again, his pace the same as when the beast had left.

"Yes, Daddy." The beast replied, Ryan hearing the sound of them sharing a kiss before his pants were being quite literally ripped from him. He cringed at that but tried not to move, reminding himself over and over about what would happen if he did. Next to go were Ryan's underwear, the same disgusting pair he'd been wearing when he'd been captured, and they were ripped off as well. He'd showered since that day, but as he hadn't been provided with clean clothes, Ryan had been faced with the choice of either wearing his dirty clothes or remaining naked. He supposed if nothing else, he wouldn't have to make that choice now. He was crying again.

A pair of inhumanly strong hands grabbed Ryan's hips and he flinched at the bruising grip, cringing hard when he felt the tip of the beast's erection brush his entrance. Of course he was going to take him dry. Why had he expected anything else from Fontaine's pet? The beast began to fill him and it hurt, but it was almost nothing compared to the pain in his mouth as Fontaine's member ran over his gums over and over, so he found it easy enough to hold still and let it happen.

Then the beast was moving and Ryan tried hard to pretend that it was anyone but his own flesh and blood. Of course, Fontaine would never make it that easy. "How's that feel, Ryan? Probably as close as you'll ever get to fuckin' yourself. I'm sure you've been told to do that more than once in your life." He said, flashing Ryan a grin when he managed to cut his eyes up in brief glare before dropping his gaze again and trying to focus on moving his tongue and nothing else. He wanted to kick, to buck, to jerk and thrash, anything, but he wouldn't, he could do this, he **had** to do this.

"He's not moving very much." The beast muttered, speeding up his already brutally hard thrusts. "Must not hate it." Ryan's jaw clenched as he realized this was very likely Fontaine's plan all along, but without teeth that only gave the monster fucking his face a tighter hole and he groaned.

"Think he might be likin' it." Fontaine said, a laugh in his voice and a sinister grin on his face when Ryan flashed his eyes up again. "He's definitely milkin' me over here for someone supposedly bein' raped."

And those words stung in an odd way. Yes, Ryan knew this was rape. That he was being taken against his will, but he hadn't really dwelled on that yet. He'd avoided it. But now. Was this really what his life was to be now? Pain and humiliation doomed to repeat until a man he'd once respected, maybe even been quite fond of, perhaps even thought of as a friend, and his own son grew bored of him? Ryan was crying again, the tears coming in intermittent waves now, ceasing and returning as he grew numb and then was jabbed in just the right place to bring his tumultuous emotions back to the forefront.

Speaking of being jabbed in just the right place, though in a much more literal sense, the beast rammed against Ryan's prostate quite suddenly and his whole body jerked as he choked on a moan and Fontaine's cock. "Think you're right, Daddy." The beast groaned, a grin in his own strained voice. "He's probably been thirsty for this since he first realized we were gonna keep him."

Ryan wanted to argue, to tell Fontaine and his pet off, but he couldn't. He was physically unable and furthermore, there was still the looming threat of both being skinned and having to live toothless for as long as Fontaine deemed appropriate if he didn't behave himself. So, instead of fighting or arguing or trying to be strong and fight the rising tide of despair threatening to drown him, Ryan simply sobbed softly whenever he felt one well up and allowed himself to be used, participating only as much as he felt he had to in order to avoid punishment.

Mounting despair or no, the beast taking him from behind kept hitting Ryan's prostate and whether he wanted it to or not, his body was reacting to the stimulation. And of course the beast noticed. How could this be Ryan's personal Hell if he was simply allowed to wallow in his shame by himself? "He's hard, Daddy." The beast laughed the moment he noticed, immediately reaching down to give Ryan's erection a cruelly pleasant squeeze that he jerked into without meaning to.

"'Course he is." Fontaine said, his tone casual. "Stuffed with cock on both ends. It's a bottom bitch's dream."

"Stuffed full with your own son and so hard." The beast muttered near Ryan's ear while Fontaine held him still. "For shame." He mumbled, a grin plastered on his face when Ryan managed to glance to the side in what was supposed to be a glare but likely came out much more pathetically than he'd intended. "You're just as fucked up as we are."

As Fontaine started moving Ryan again, the beast leaned away from his ear but the resulting silence was almost worse than the taunts. He couldn't help how his body reacted to stimulation. Could he? What _did_ it mean that as disgusting as he found his situation, he was starting to leak onto the floor? _Was_ he as depraved as the monsters on either end of his body? Was it truly the threat of further torment that held him so still and pliant or was that just a convenient excuse? If all of this was truly against his will, truly so disgusting to him, why was his erection bobbing stiffly between his legs with every hard thrust he received?

While Ryan started to crumble mentally, Fontaine reached his peak and forced Ryan to swallow all of it. His pet was right behind him and Ryan felt the semen he'd just been forced to swallow threatening to come back up when he felt the warm feeling of cum deep inside himself for the first time ever. Both monsters pulled out of their respective holes and before Ryan could do anything, the beast jolted his testicles much like he had the last time and Ryan was unable to stifle a rather broken sounding cry as his orgasm was forced somewhat painfully from his body.

"Look at that. He came just from being raped." The beast hummed, watching as Ryan fell to his side and curled in on himself. "Guess he's really settling into his role."

"I think you're right, doll." Fontaine replied, his voice so full of love that Ryan was surprised he didn't retch, still feeling sick. "Guess that means he's earned his trip through the Vita-Chamber." He hummed, casually kicking Ryan over to expose his most vulnerable parts and stepping on his shoulders to keep him in place. "You wanna do the honors, doll?"

"How should I kill him, Daddy?" The beast asked, the wet splat of the condom being deposited on Ryan's stomach following shortly after. Shouldn't he be retching? That was disgusting. It was disgusting, wasn't it? Then why wasn't he retching? Why couldn't he be sick? Wasn't all of this disgusting? Everything that had happened? It was! It had to be! He was sick! Why wasn't he **more** sick!?

"However you want, doll. Just make it quick. I think there's a warm bath waitin' for us when we're done here." Fontaine replied, Ryan barely hearing him over his screaming mind. There was a pause and then a pain unlike anything he'd ever felt as the beast drove his entire fist into Ryan's chest and ripped his heart free, showing it to him as his body rapidly shut down from shock and trauma.

Ryan's last vision before waking up inside a glass tube was of that horrible smiling face behind his own slowly stilling heart. The Vita-Chamber opened slowly and Ryan toppled out of it, landing on the floor with a slick sound, the liquid from the chamber still clinging to his new skin. His first instinct was to run his tongue over his teeth to make sure they were there but then he realized he was alive and his next instinct was to cry. Ryan was dehydrated, though, and he didn't have any tears left, so he just laid on the cold floor, too tired and broken to move himself to the small mattress against the wall across from the Vita-Chamber.

It was impossible to tell how long he laid there, but he was shivering and dry by the time the door opened, the light from the bathroom blinding him as it flooded the room that was only lit by the dim blue glow of the Vita-Chamber. "Alright, take 'im to the bed." Fontaine's voice rang out, making Ryan flinch and curl in on himself before two strong pairs of hands were hauling him up by the shoulders and taking him to his prison. He was deposited on the bed and instantly curled in on himself again. "Now get out." The door closed and the bed dipped, Ryan closing his eyes tightly and waiting for whatever would come next.

"You're shakin' like a leaf, Ryan." Fontaine muttered in his ear, his tone amused. "You 'fraid'a me now?" Fontaine was using his voice just right, just the way he knew Ryan liked it, all low rumbles and silky purrs. Ryan didn't know what kind of reaction Fontaine wanted, but he whimpered softly, still too broken from what had happened earlier and the storm still raging in his mind to respond verbally. "Good. Ya oughta be." Fontaine said, grabbing Ryan's shoulder and turning him so he was facing him. "But you should be more afraid of Jack. You keep treatin' him like you do and one'a these days, I'm gonna let him do whatever he pleases to you 'stead'a holdin' him back."

Eyes widening in horror, Ryan looked up at Fontaine. That was how the beast acted when being held back? Something in his face must've gotten the question across because Fontaine grinned. "You'd'a noticed it later while pickin' apart what we did to you, but I told him to make it quick when I let him kill you. I woulda just told him to go for it, there's no tellin' how long it woulda took him to finally put you outta your misery." Fontaine explained, Ryan's eyes drifting down as he realized Fontaine was right.

It had happened far too many times in Ryan's life that he'd found himself in this position and yet here he was again, at Frank Fontaine's notoriously short supply of mercy. Now, apparently, he'd be here for the rest of his life. For the rest of how ever many lives his captors could wring out of him. Ryan still didn't have the spare water in his body for tears, but he did manage a painful, dry sob that made Fontaine's grin grow.

"Good. Keep in mind how much my mood is gonna affect you from now on when you're makin' your decision on this next part." Fontaine said, getting up and bringing Ryan's attention to two boxes at the end of the bed. "C'mere." He ordered, Ryan obeying slowly, crawling across the bed and looking into the boxes tentatively only to find fabric. One of the patterns stood out to him and he realized they were both boxes of his clothes. One was a box of suits and the other of pajamas.

"Ya can only have one." Fontaine said, watching closely as Ryan looked between the boxes and then at him uncertainly. Of course Ryan wanted the suits, but Fontaine had just made a point of mentioning his own mood. Was this some sort of test? When Fontaine's face offered him nothing, Ryan looked back down at the boxes. Of course he wanted the suits. With a shaking hand, Ryan pulled the box of pajamas closer, finding it heavy for a box of clothes.

"Always knew you were smart." Fontaine said, sounding pleased and indeed looking quite pleased when Ryan looked up at him. "Think about what I said about Jack. He's a good kid. If you weren't so fuckin' mean to him, I think he'd eventually find it in himself to forgive you for tryin' to break him." Fontaine picked up the box of suits, the box looking effortless to lift. "Then who knows." He muttered, cupping Ryan's cheek with his free hand and a startling amount of gentleness. "Maybe I could make this arrangement more pleasant for all of us."

Too shocked to reply beyond a slow nod, Ryan watched Fontaine leave and then turned to the box of clothes he'd chosen. He was still exhausted and all he currently wanted was a glass of water, but he pulled out a pair of pants, not wanting to get said water naked. Underneath a couple more pairs of pants and their matching shirts, Ryan figured out why the box was so heavy. He'd assumed he was just weak from having died recently, but the box had books in it.

Forcing himself into the restroom, Ryan got that glass of water and a couple more refills before returning to the bed. He put a shirt on, the water having helped quite a bit with his energy, and picked up the first book, morbidly curious to know what kind of filth Fontaine had supplied him with now. Ryan was shocked when his eyes ran over a familiar title and as he pulled the other books from the box, four total, he realized they were all from his personal library.

Too tired to do much else, Ryan stared at the books for a bit longer and then set them aside and laid down, pulling the blankets around himself tightly and falling asleep almost instantly. When he woke up, he'd likely be annoyed with himself and disgusted and he might even eventually get back up to angry and defiant. At the moment, in the few minutes of consciousness he had before sleep claimed him, Ryan was seriously considering Fontaine's words. Perhaps Hell **would** be more tolerable if he befriended the Devil and his pet.

Perhaps it was worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I thought I couldn't get any worse cuz I added snuff and technical necrophilia? Yeah, that was a nice three or so days...


	16. Pauper's Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack heads to Pauper's Drop to find Augustus Sinclair and leaves with much more than a new ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Grace Holloway, Augustus Sinclair
> 
> Relationships: Augustus Sinclair/Jack
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Biting, Marking, Blood Kink, Masochism, Sadism, Voice Kink, Daddy Kink, Size Kink, Size Difference, Nipple Play, Lots of Touching, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Orgasm Delay, Crotch Stepping, Burnplay, Obsessive Behaviour, Smoking, Idolatry, Murder, Drug Use, Broken Bones, Possessive Behaviour
> 
> Extra Warning: Sinclair uses exactly 19 nicknames on Jack (not including the canon chief, sport, and son) before finally finding the perfect one and sticking with it. If you're allergic to terrible nicknames (sugarplum, honeybun, etc), this chapter may be painful.

"One more time, doll." Fontaine ordered, arms folded over his chest as he stood before Jack.

"Head to Pauper's Drop, find Augustus Sinclair, kill anyone and everyone else who gets in my way, do whatever it takes to convince him to come back with me." Jack recited, smiling when Fontaine's face softened and he nodded in approval.

"Good. And the proof that I'm the one who sent you?" Fontaine asked, raising an eyebrow at Jack. They'd been over this several times by now, but Fontaine needed the peace of mind of knowing that if the radio signal didn't hold up all the way in Pauper's Drop, Jack would still be able to do this.

" _Life ain't strictly business._ " Jack quoted, mimicking Fontaine's accent and botching it horribly only to grin cheekily when Fontaine smiled a bit and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Cute, wise ass." Fontaine grumbled, pulling Jack close and biting into his neck.

Gasping softly as Fontaine sucked a painful mark into his already bruised neck, Jack held the older man closer. "How am I gonna survive without you for however long this mission takes?" He mumbled, missing his Daddy already even though he hadn't left yet.

"You'll figure it out." Fontaine sighed in Jack's ear, having woken up on the wrong side of the bed after their little romp in the lounge. It was the first actual bit of sleep he'd gotten in years and it had only lasted four hours. Jack was helping just by being himself, but the sudden loss of Pep-Pills as a regular part of Fontaine's diet was making his mood extra edgy. Luckily Jack wasn't put off by him taking it out on his neck. In fact, he was enjoying it, and the taste of blood was calming Fontaine more than it probably should.

"I mean, I know I'll _technically_ be fine, but--" Jack started, his words breaking off into a low whine as Fontaine reopened a barely healed wound and began to nurse from it. He knew Fontaine was in a bad mood, but he secretly liked it when Fontaine was like this. He was much clingier when he was angry and seemed to appreciate Jack's generally needy personality even more. Granted, Jack had only been around Fontaine in a bad mood a handful of times so far, but that handful had been enough to let Jack know for sure that Fontaine was perfect no matter how he was feeling.

"You got all your supplies?" Fontaine asked, releasing Jack's neck and keeping him from continuing his train of thought.

"Maps of all the territories I might need to go to, a list of locations to search if the Sinclair Deluxe is empty, and enough Eve hypos and med-kits to fight three armies at once." Jack listed off, having negotiated not taking his guns in exchange for carrying more Eve than he could possibly use in one trip away from the penthouse.

"Good. If you can't contact me, just stick to the mission." Fontaine repeated for perhaps the third time since he'd started getting Jack ready for this. "Your only concern should be finding Sinclair and getting him back here in one piece."

"I know, Daddy." Jack said, giving a firm nod as Fontaine used his serious voice on him, the one he used on his crews when one of the leaders got too mouthy and he wasn't in the mood. "I can do this, I promise." Fontaine's face softened again and Jack leaned in with a smile when he cupped his cheek.

"I know you can, doll." He mumbled, leaning in to peck Jack's lips. After pecking him back, Jack was about to start boarding the bathysphere that would take him to Pauper's Drop, but Fontaine snapped his fingers and caught Jack's elbow. "I almost forgot. Sinclair's as gay as a Rapture night is never-endin', so don't be too surprised if he comes onto you."

"Oh." Jack said, blinking in surprise. "Okay." He waited a moment for Fontaine to add something, anything, and when he didn't, Jack frowned. "You seem-- oddly okay with the idea of him flirting with me." When Fontaine gave him that one proud smile he reserved for when Jack had caught onto something, Jack felt a surge of pride and couldn't help but smile a little.

"You remember the context to that code I gave you?" Fontaine asked, knowing Jack did when he flushed a bit and nodded. "Well, I wouldn't exactly mind it if you decided Sinclair's someone you'd like to spend more time with." He admitted, shrugging nonchalantly and sliding his hands casually into his pockets. "No pressure, 'course, but he and I were a little closer than I let on and I kinda miss 'im is all. Wouldn't mind one more body warmin' the bed if things end up goin' that way."

It was surprising to Jack when he realized he didn't feel jealous of the idea of his Daddy missing another man. It was-- weirdly exciting, actually. "Are you-- Daddy, did you just give me permission to flirt with another man?" He asked quietly, feeling oddly naughty at the thought. Fontaine had always painted himself as a very jealous individual, after all, so Jack had never even considered looking at another person let alone _flirting_.

Shrugging once more, Fontaine freed a hand from his pocket to wave it at Jack in a shooing motion. "Any longer gabbin' and we'll be behind schedule."

Huffing softly at Fontaine's refusal to answer him, Jack gently pulled the older man closer by his tie and kissed him deeply. "I'll see you soon, Daddy." He breathed once he pulled away, smiling softly at the dusting of red on Fontaine's face.

Laughing softly to cover his blush, Fontaine shook his head and smoothed down his tie. "I'll hold you to that, doll." He replied, watching as Jack sealed up the bathysphere and disappeared. Unable to help himself, Fontaine sighed fondly and then made his way back to the penthouse, determined to lose himself in paperwork in between dealing with his teams and communicating with Jack. He really had every confidence in Jack being able to do this and furthermore to do it on his own, but Fontaine found himself annoyingly concerned about the great lug. The only way to distract himself from the annoying feeling of caring about someone other than himself was the sweet relief of paperwork.

As the bathysphere moved slowly through the ocean, Jack resisted the urge to reach for his radio. He was determined to only pester Fontaine if he needed to. This wasn't like his first run through Rapture when he'd needed someone holding his hand. Jack was a big boy now and he could deal with anything Rapture could dish out on his own. A cigarette helped his resolve and his nerves and Jack actually managed to enjoy the view of the ocean and lights of Rapture outside the bathysphere.

Even though Fontaine almost exclusively smoked cigars now that he had access to the "good stuff" in the penthouse, Jack still preferred cigarettes. Cigars had less Eve in them and they were usually flavored. Or, the ones Fontaine had were flavored. He liked vanilla alot. They tasted _fine_ , but Jack was more fond of nicotine and Eve. The cigars smelled better, though. And they left bigger burns. Shivering lightly, Jack smiled to himself. He also certainly couldn't complain about how the smoke tasted when it had already been through Fontaine's lungs. Okay, maybe cigars were pretty good.

Getting off the velvet couch he was perched on, Jack sat down cross-legged in front of the window of the bathysphere and continued to watch the ocean go by. He found himself idly wondering what kind of person Sinclair was. Fontaine hadn't told him much and Jack hadn't really even thought about it until just earlier when Fontaine had mentioned missing him. Surely he was at least pleasant if Fontaine liked him enough to miss his company. Frowning a bit, Jack thought about all the unpleasant people Fontaine had leading his teams and decided maybe Sinclair didn't necessarily need to be pleasant to make Fontaine like him.

Frowning more, Jack also realized that might mean he himself was unpleasant. Was that Fontaine's type? Thankfully the bathysphere began to slow and Jack stood, well, stood was a strong word. He was too tall to actually stand in the bathysphere. Jack was almost too tall to even crouch in the small submersible. Still, he went about double-checking that he hadn't left any of his gear on the seats before exiting the bathysphere when it docked. There wasn't any time to think about whether or not he himself was pleasant, it was now time to get his game-face on.

Taking his customary deep breath, Jack let his left arm light up with Incinerate while his right arm crackled with Electro Bolt and got moving. The port to Pauper's Drop, which seemed to double as a train station, was eerily quiet but Jack kept his guard up, looking around for possible threats while he moved. Just past the port was a hallway with a Rosie that had been crushed under some rubble. Jack skirted around the rubble and went through a couple more doors before finding himself in a room that felt decidedly disconnected from anything else Jack had seen so far.

Up ahead there was a Little Sister vent with one of the creatures struggling to climb into it. Fairly normal. It was surrounded by blue and white paintings of butterflies and many white sheets had been hung around the vent and were laid on the floor along with lots of glowing yellow orbs which gave the room an eerie vibe. Which, in Rapture, was saying something.

In front of the vent was, what appeared to be, an alter with a dead Splicer lying atop it. The corpse was surrounded by three other Splicers who appeared to be either praying or mourning. Perhaps the strangest part was that written above the vent was "we will be reborn" in big white letters. After staring at the odd sight for a bit, Jack murdered the Splicers and came closer, a frown playing his face.

Off to the left on the back wall was written, in the same large letters, some more odd things. "Lamb is watching", "she is our salvation", and "mago is upon us". Jack wasn't sure if he was reading that last one right since some rubble was blocking what might've been the first part of it, but he doubted some extra letters would make whatever that was trying to say make sense to him. To his right was an entire wall of photos with a poster at the center. The poster was a plain white poster with a big grey butterfly in the center and "what do you see ahead?" written at the top. On the bottom in small print, it advertised the services of a Doctor Lamb.

Suddenly Jack was pulled from the surreal feeling the room provided by his radio crackling. "What kind of animal are you, interrupting people while they're mourning? For shame." A remarkably normal, if unfamiliar, voice scolded, making Jack frown.

"I wasn't aware Splicers **could** mourn." He replied, deciding to move on despite his disapproving audience. The moment Jack left the room, he heard the sound of more Splicers outside and readied his Plasmids, but didn't get a chance to attack as the biggest Splicer he'd ever seen in his life hurtled an explosive at the other ones before leaping up onto the roof of the Fishbowl Diner nearby and disappearing from sight. Jack just stood there, slack-jawed. He'd never seen a Splicer like _that_ before! It was the size of a Big Daddy but moved with such agility.

He wanted to fight it. Just as Jack was taking a step forward to follow the massive Splicer, a crackling from his hip reminded him that he had a mission to complete. He at least needed to get the Sinclair Deluxe searched before he could run off hunting Splicers for fun and that Splicer had gone in the opposite direction of where Jack needed to go.

"They're people. People mourn their lost." The voice said, her tone that of someone educating a child who'd just committed a terrible social faux pas.

"I sure hope you aren't Augustus Sinclair." Jack grumbled at his radio, heading to his left and spotting another dead Rosie under a much larger pile of rubble on the way to the door with a sign above it that read "Sinclair Deluxe" in big, fancy writing. It clashed with the rundown, ramshackle vibe of the rest of Pauper's Drop.

"Sinclair? What do you want with that snake?" The woman spat, making Jack sigh in relief.

"Oh good." He mumbled, having not been looking forward to dealing with the grumpy person on the other end of his radio instead of _dealing_ with them. Granted, Fontaine _had_ said that Sinclair was a guy, but the voice didn't make the man so Jack hadn't wanted to assume. "That's for me and Mr. Sinclair to discuss." Jack replied more loudly, walking through a large glass walkway and into the lobby of the Sinclair Deluxe.

The woman scoffed before replying icily. "Well, you won't find him here. Best you look elsewhere."

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna look around anyway." Jack asserted, passing up more posters for Dr. Lamb and some old puddles of blood as he made his way through the lobby and entered a hallway. Beyond the hallway were some very promising stairs, but suddenly a Splicer like the other big one from before landed in the little courtyard between the hall and the stairs and knocked over two large pillars, blocking Jack's path.

"I said **look elsewhere**." The woman repeated, sounding somewhat angry now. "You won't find that snake in my home and I won't have an animal like you poking about in here."

Sighing, Jack looked to his hip in exasperation. "I know I'm not exactly conventional, but you have the nerve to call Splicers people, so maybe cool it with the whole "animal" thing?" He asked, looking back up at the columns blocking his path and debating between his fists, Telekinesis, and Sonic Boom.

"Those people you murdered in cold blood were more human than something like you could ever be." The woman replied, a familiar sneer in her voice.

Sighing again, Jack decided on Telekinesis. "Whatever, lady." He grumbled deciding he was done fighting as he lifted the pillars with little effort and moved them off to the sides, propping them up against the walls and releasing them. He'd gotten good at careful maneuvering with Telekinesis with enough practice back at the penthouse so now he could actually let objects go instead of throwing anything he picked up.

Walking into the courtyard, Jack easily took care of four Splicers that sprung out from behind an absurdly large pile of pillows in the middle of the courtyard that he hadn't noticed thanks to being so focused on the stairs. Using Telekinesis to crush the Splicers as they ran at him, Jack looked around again, searching for any other threats and suddenly noticed that some lights hanging from the ceiling had swarms of blue butterflies buzzing them.

Eyes widening, Jack took a step back and tilted his head a bit, watching the butterflies and silently awing at how beautiful they were. He'd never seen a butterfly up close. Or, if he had it had been part of the surface memories that had been erased along with the fake ones weeks ago. They looked so dainty, so fragile. And they were so very pretty.

Smiling softly to himself, Jack kept moving, choosing the right staircase and making his way to the first floor of the Deluxe. The first door led to room 106 and was empty. There weren't any other rooms on the outer halls, so Jack moved further inside, almost immediately getting startled by a Splicer who was playing dead in front of what once might've been a planter or fountain of some sort. Jack caught him with Telekinesis and sighed softly in frustration at being startled. He moved the Splicer out of his path before ripping him in half length-wise and letting the two halves fall to the ground with the organs and blood that had spilled out instantly.

Up ahead was a very dark hallway, so Jack created a ball of electricity in his left hand and went to wielding his wrench in his right. Electro Bolt was actually brighter than Incinerate when it was just in his hand and Jack preferred the comforting blueish glow of Electro Bolt to the somewhat ominous orange glow of Incinerate anyway. Rooms 111 to 114 were all either locked or blocked by rubble and as Jack broke into every one of them, he found them all empty.

"I'm telling you, monster, you're not going to find Sinclair here." The woman said from Jack's hip as he killed two Splicers in room 115. "The Family doesn't appreciate you rampaging through my home and they'll be coming for you in more numbers than even you can handle."

Jack actually laughed at that, moving onto room 116, which was locked. "Perfect. That'll save me the trouble of hunting you all down." He replied brightly, finding both room 116 and 117 empty. The woman didn't reply and that was just as well, Jack wasn't going to be deterred. He did think about mentioning that he liked "monster" more than "animal" just to be a brat but that felt like the sort of thing that would backfire quickly, so Jack just kept moving.

Room 118 was empty but had a busted down wall that led further into the Deluxe whereas the hall Jack had been going down was blocked by rubble. He could've cleared it, of course, but it seemed like it had been there for awhile so it was unlikely that Sinclair was in any of the rooms blocked by the rubble. If he was, he was definitely dead. Worst case scenario, Jack would check the rest of the areas he'd been told to and then come back to clear out the rubble and search for a corpse to prove he hadn't simply overlooked Sinclair. Work smarter, not harder.

Smiling as he reminded himself of Fontaine, Jack easily killed three Splicers who were spread about the room past 118 and then climbed through another busted wall and out into another hallway. This was still only the first floor! The Sinclair Deluxe sure was big. Were there even enough people living in Rapture in its heyday to warrant this much space? When Jack thought about the sheer volume of Splicers still left in the sunken city, he decided there probably had been.

To the right and around a corner there was a turret that Jack dealt with easily. The only room there was what appeared to be a maintenance closet or something. It had a Power to the People station in it. Jack didn't have any weapons to upgrade, but it was good to know. The only other direction to go in had a security camera whirring and clicking away above two Splicers lingering around another weird butterfly shrine. Jack took care of all three and looked at the writing above the Little Sister vent. It also read "we will be reborn".

"It doesn't matter how many of us you kill, monster. The Family is many and you're only one." The woman over the radio said, preempting a Splicer attack of only four.

Rolling his eyes, Jack froze the four Splicers with a wave of his hand and burst of Winter Blast. "You can clearly see me. Why do you think anything less than every Splicer in the city at once stands a chance against me?" He asked, walking over to examine the shrine closer and leaving the frozen Splicers where they were. Maybe it was cruel to draw out what was no doubt agonizing, but Jack was feeling petty. Probably because it'd been awhile since he'd heard Fontaine's voice. It suddenly occurred to Jack that as obsessed as these people were with Lamb, he was at least as obsessed with Fontaine. A war of faiths, then. The church of Lamb versus Fontaine's prophet.

It suddenly occurred to Jack that he wasn't entirely joking about the whole "prophet" thing even though it sounded rather funny. He really did feel like he was in divine presence when around Fontaine most of the time and he'd certainly compared him to a god enough times. It also occurred to Jack that he himself had a rather culty thought process. How he'd never noticed it before, he wasn't sure, but Fontaine had probably noticed it a long time ago so at least he knew Fontaine was into it.

Jack couldn't help but giggle softly as these revelations put everything he was doing into a whole new light. Now Jack wasn't just clearing a zone, he was smiting heretics in the name of the one true god of Rapture. What a world to live in. Even as unrelated as it was, Jack's laughter seemed to rub the woman the wrong way.

"Laugh all you like, monster, we have a strength in unity that a lone creature like you could never understand."

Feeling a nerve snap when she called him a creature, Jack turned to the frozen Splicers and made the ice encasing them thicker. "You know what? Your unity is inspiring." He said coldly, walking up to the ice sculptures he'd made and tapping one. The Splicers eyes darted back and forth, but they remained immobile. They'd run out of air or freeze to death before the ice thawed and even if someone tried to break them out, they'd be just as likely to shatter the Splicer within. It would be a slow, agonizing death.

Smiling sweetly at the Splicer he was poking, Jack carried on his merry way to the second floor. "So I'm gonna stop killing your precious _fucking_ family." He stated, a bit of his boiling temper coming out on the emphasis he put on "fucking" but his tone otherwise cold. "In fact, I won't even kill you." Unclipping his radio, Jack pulled it close, lowering his voice to a growl he'd only ever used on Ryan. "But you're gonna wish I did." He promised darkly, turning his radio off and putting it back on his belt. Fontaine wouldn't be contacting him anyway, and Jack didn't plan on having any emergencies worthy of his Daddy's attention, so he could afford to keep the radio off for a little while. Just long enough to calm himself down. God help that woman if she had access to some sort of intercom or something.

The several minutes of silence Jack enjoyed while he checked room 216 were very reassuring and the several **more** minutes of silence as he also checked rooms 217 and 214 were even moreso. Jack found himself humming softly as he entered room 215 which was connected to rooms 213 and 211 by several broken walls. His humming was only interrupted by the trill of a turret that was quickly destroyed and then the noisy sobbing of a Splicer.

What an obnoxious sound. Whatever he was upset about, he was _really upset_. Following the sound, Jack found the Splicer and froze him solid in the puddle he was kneeling in. The Splicer only had enough time to straighten up before he couldn't move and Jack moved to walk past him before a bookshelf from room 212 across the hall came crashing through the wall and shattered the Splicer on the way to Jack. Surprise, the ice he was standing on, and the force of the hit all combined to send Jack on his ass, but he recovered quickly, turning the bookshelf to ash and getting to his feet.

From room 212, Jack heard a shout and then more furniture came from the hole in the wall, all of which was instantly incinerated, before one of those really big Splicers came barreling out of the room. Suddenly forgetting all about how annoyed he was and about his promise not to kill anymore members of the church of Lamb, because calling these delusional twats family made Jack cringe, Jack caught the Splicer and used his momentum to send him to the ground.

Dancing out of the way as the Splicer got up quickly, Jack incinerated a few more pieces of furniture and then caught the Splicer as it charged at him. The two massive men began to grapple, the Splicer spitting profanities and insults that Jack wasn't listening to and Jack grinning in a very unhinged way. Jack would've never thought that he'd get the opportunity to wrestle with someone who could actually hold their own against him since Big Daddies weren't exactly smart enough to goad into anything more than the combat they already offered and there certainly weren't any people available strong enough to offer Jack an actual challenge.

When Jack let his hold go weak on one side, the Splicer leaned into it and Jack took the opportunity to topple the great brute over as he did so. He grabbed the back of the Splicer's head and smashed it against the ice on the floor as he went down. It shattered, shards sticking in the Splicer's face, and he shouted in rage and pain, but Jack was off of him and out of range before he could get back up.

Much to Jack's surprise, the Splicer didn't charge again right away, instead taking a moment to wipe blood from his face and regard Jack. "Gracie said ya might be a problem. I didn't believe 'er. "Little thing like 'im?" I said." He scoffed, not noticing the way Jack's face lit up. "You're tougher than ya look, though. I'll give ya that."

"You think I'm little?" Jack asked happily, too happy to care that the Splicer looked at him like he was crazy as he swayed a little in happiness. "I guess I am little compared to you." He hummed, now noting how the Splicer was much wider than him even though they were about the same height.

"You're even nuttier 'an 'em Ryan Splicers." The Splicer muttered, eyeing Jack with an amount of sentience that would be concerning if Jack had any sort of moral compass to speak of.

Luckily, that had been taken care of weeks ago. "I've been told worse." Jack replied easily, lighting both of his hands on fire and taking a wild swing at the Splicer. He caught Jack's hand and tried to crush it, frowning when Jack's knuckles popped and nothing else happened. Grinning, Jack super-heated the hand trapped in the Splicer's massive fist and the Splicer howled in pain as his arm up to his elbow rapidly cooked and then turned to ash. The fire kept on spreading from there and the Splicer dropped, trying to put himself out by rolling around.

Tilting his head, Jack watched a bit and then blasted the Splicer with Winter Blast. Walking over, Jack looked into the Splicer's frozen face, gave him a cheerful grin, and brought his foot down on his frozen head. Much to Jack's surprise, the ice cracked, but the Splicer's head held. Grin suddenly going quite feral, Jack continued to stomp until he broke through the Splicer's skull and sent chunks of frozen skull and steaming brain everywhere.

Giggling softly, Jack moved on, heading into room 212 and stopping immediately. One of the walls was covered in blue butterflies. Jack came closer and realized quickly they were alive and moving. Gasping quietly, Jack slowly reached out, his Plasmids put away, and placed his hand near the wall. He held his breath and when a butterfly actually climbed onto his hand, all of his breath left him in a rush. Pulling his hand slowly closer to his face, Jack examined the butterfly more closely and decided easily that it was one of the prettiest things he'd ever seen as it flapped its wings slowly.

Moving his hand back to the wall, Jack gently used his index finger to coax the butterfly back to the others and then left the room, finding a collapsed floor and using that as his way up to the next floor of the Deluxe. He climbed through a broken wall and realized his Eve stores were running low as he zapped a security camera and almost didn't have enough juice to make it blow up. As Jack was hitting up with an Eve hypo, a Splicer came running at him and Jack froze them solid, the action feeling strange with a needle in his arm.

Leaving the frozen Splicer to die, Jack found himself in an outside hall and checked the first door he came across. Locked, of course. Breaking the door down, Jack checked room 306 and found it was empty. The next room, the last room Jack could access without serious excavating work, actually, had a name above it. "G. Holloway".

Mentally crossing his fingers, Jack entered room 307, finding himself surprised when the door was actually unlocked and opened for him. He was even more surprised when that didn't mean an ambush or booby trap of some sort. There was just a trashed living room, what appeared to be a kid's room off to the side, and a slightly less trashed bedroom. Empty.

Sighing in disappointment, Jack turned to leave when a red glow caught his eye. Behind a slightly torn poster of a woman, Lamb according to the writing on the bottom, the wall appeared to be hollowed out. Tearing the poster aside, Jack found a glowing red button. Some instinct told him that pushing a red button was a bad idea, but Jack ignored it since he couldn't think of why and pressed the button. There were no alarms, surprising yet again, and instead there was a loud hiss off to the side.

Glancing around the wall, Jack saw the back of a closet moving aside to reveal a secret passage. "Ooh"ing slightly, Jack crept over and ducked under some pipes. The passage was gross, moldy and damp and leaky, but it held yet another door. The door had a little window in the center that revealed an older woman, Holloway probably, sitting at a desk, keeping an eye on some monitors. She looked up and met his eyes through the glass, her stare surprisingly even if this was who Jack thought it was.

Reaching down, Jack jiggled the doorknob and rolled his eyes when it didn't move. Locked. Sighing, Jack ripped the door from the frame and put it aside. "Really? Were you even using those monitors?" He asked, blocking the doorway easily and looking at the woman.

"Oh, I've been watching." Holloway replied, flicking the monitors off and standing a bit shakily with the assistance of a cane. "I've been watching you kill members of my family in the pursuit of a snake." She motioned around with her free hand, glaring at Jack when she finished. "Satisfied? Sinclair isn't here."

"A little disappointed, actually." Jack replied, tilting his head a bit at the brave woman before him. "I was hoping you were lying."

"Well, you can leave now, monster. Or are you still set to make me wish you'd have killed me?" Holloway asked spitefully, still glaring strongly at Jack despite the fact that he absolutely dwarfed her in every sense.

"Oh, I'm definitely still doing that." Jack replied, his right hand icing over with Winter Blast. "Monsters don't really do mercy or forgiveness. You understand." He said, offering Holloway a mock-sympathetic shrug and freezing her solid. As he was leaving her to her slow death, Jack flicked his radio back on and jumped when a new voice almost instantly came from it.

"Well there, sport. Not many men could look an elderly, unarmed, crippled woman in the face and pull the metaphorical trigger like that." Came a decidedly charming Southern voice which sounded weirdly approving. "I'd applaud you if I wasn't tryin' to keep my noise to a minimum."

Blinking in surprise, Jack pulled his radio to his lips and kept moving, making his way back out of the secret room and to the outer hall of the Deluxe. "Thank you?" He said uncertainly, deciding the man sounded sincere enough.

"My, my, pretty as a picture _and_ polite? What's a man to do?" The man hummed, moving on before Jack could reply or really even react. "But I do forget my own manners, don't I? The name's Augustus Sinclair, sport. Esquire. I mighta overheard that you're lookin' for me."

"Oh!" Jack said, smiling down at the radio in his hand. "Yes, I am." If this really was Sinclair, Jack had a feeling Fontaine was going to get that new addition to their relationship he'd mentioned. So far Sinclair seemed perfectly charming and definitely as gay as Fontaine had told him he'd be. Maybe it was just due to his own personality, but Jack appreciated a man who wasn't afraid to flirt with someone he'd barely met. Even better that he wasn't afraid to flirt having apparently seen what Jack was capable of.

"Well, that's just dandy, son, but I do have to ask, if you'd be so kind as to indulge, why on God's green Earth is a great big murder machine like you lookin' for lil' ol' me?" He paused briefly before adding quietly, almost playfully, "And if you could be honest, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Smiling to himself, Jack decided Sinclair was adorable and that he **definitely** wanted to get to know him better. "I have a business proposal for you." He replied, jumping the railing of the outer hallway and landing with a _thump_ on the ground floor of the Deluxe.

"Do you now? Fascinatin'." Sinclair hummed, sounding intrigued. "It's been an _age_ since I've talked business with anyone. So, what kinda business do ya got for me, chief?"

"I can't say until I know for sure you're actually Augustus Sinclair." Jack replied, making his way back through the hallway of the Deluxe. "If we could meet somewhere--"

"Well, poo." Sinclair interrupted, making Jack smile broadly at his word choice. "See, that right there is a problem seein' as I don't quite know for certain you ain't lookin' to separate my soul from my body in some delightfully horrible way like I been watchin' you do since you got here. Side-note, sport, big fan of how you ripped that one fella clean in half. Inspirin', truly."

Biting his lip to stifle a laugh, Jack used his free hand to deal with a missile turret and two Splicers, forgetting entirely about his promise to Holloway and simply killing all three with Electro Bolt. "Thank you."

"Be still my heart, son. Stacked like a brick outhouse but just downright wholesome in the manners department." Sinclair said, letting out a low, distinctly appreciative hum. "You're makin' me positively salivate."

Unable to stifle it this time, Jack laughed, a small blush starting to creep across his cheeks. "Think getting to see me up close would be worth risking your life? I'll let you touch my muscles." Jack tried to tempt, searching the Fishbowl Diner while he spoke. Nope. Nobody in there.

"Why you-- That is a damn dirty--" Sinclair tried, giving up after a moment and letting out a huff. "I suppose I shoulda known given all I seen you do, but you ain't as innocent as that sweet baby face o' yours makes you look."

Smiling to himself as he checked Marlene's Flowers next, Jack suddenly heard the alarm call of a security camera and ducked behind a wall. "I learned from someone we're both familiar with to use my assets to my advantage." He said, peaking out from his hiding spot and zapping the camera the moment he caught sight of it.

"Oh? And who might that be?" Sinclair asked, sounding slightly less flustered. "I'll be sure to send 'em a thank you note cussin' 'em out for sincerely temptin' me to risk my life."

"Frank Fontaine." Jack said softly, pausing at a Gatherer's Garden and browsing the Plasmids out of curiosity. He had Adam to spare after his retraining since he'd had to consume quite alot of it for various reasons but the Gatherer's Garden didn't have anything he hadn't seen before. Then Jack reached the bottom and his eyes widened. There was an upgraded version of Telekinesis! Purchasing the upgrade, Jack quickly shot up and hurried down a few small stairways and out into an alley of sorts.

Up ahead there were two Splicers and Jack grinned, excited to test out his upgrade. Looking around, Jack found a convenient pile of rubble and picked up the largest piece he could see. It was noticeably lighter than an object of its size should be and Jack grinned wider, bringing the piece of rubble down on the Splicers with a satisfying _splat_. It occurred to Jack once he was done crushing those two Splicers that Sinclair hadn't responded yet and he glanced down at his hip.

Before Jack could say anything though, the wall to his right suddenly exploded outwards and Jack was punched in the face by the giant Splicer who'd done it. The force sent Jack flying and the suddenness of the hit dazed him. He landed hard against a shrine and had just enough time to huff out a surprised laugh before he had to move. The Splicer destroyed the shrine as it barreled forward in an attempt to pound Jack into the ground and Jack loosed his full strength into a punch to the Splicer's ribs. There was a satisfying crunch and the Splicer bellowed in pain and anger before spinning around and catching Jack in the chest with his elbow, making Jack shout at the surprising amount of pain from the blow.

Despite the pain, Jack was much more prepared for the hit and though he staggered back from the blow, he didn't lose his footing. His face and chest hurt like never before, but he knew none of his bones were broken. As big as the Splicer was, his bones weren't reinforced like Jack's were. The two behemoths stared at eachother for a moment, both breathing rather heavily. When the Splicer came forward to try and punch Jack again, Jack caught his arm and flipped him over his head, the Splicer getting his breath knocked from him as he landed hard on his back.

Just as Jack was going to bring his foot down on the Splicer's face, a crazed grin on his own face, the Splicer rolled to the side and Jack simply cracked the ground with the force of his stomp. Just as Jack was opening his mouth to say something, the Splicer grabbed his leg and pulled hard enough for Jack to fall backwards, his own breath now leaving him in an audible rush as he hit the ground. The Splicer was on him as soon as he hit the ground and Jack barely caught the two large fists aimed to bash his face in.

Heart hammering in exhilaration, Jack tried to move the Splicer up but found, in his current position and with as much force as the Splicer was bearing down on him with, he was too heavy. Hands suddenly sparking up to his shoulders, Jack sent a lethal jolt of electricity through the Splicer above him, the fact that he had Electro Bolt active keeping himself from getting shocked too badly when the bolt came back to him from where their bodies touched. Much to Jack's delight, the Splicer was stunned and convulsing, but still alive. Finally able to knock the Splicer off of himself, Jack scrambled to his feet.

Taking several steps back, Jack waited for the Splicer to stop convulsing but caught him in his telekinetic hold when he tried to get up. "This was fun." Jack huffed, grinning at the Splicer as he struggled uselessly. "But I really need to get going now." Lifting the Splicer up, Jack used Telekinesis to rip him in half, finding it easier than he thought it would be thanks to his upgrade. He dropped the separated top and bottom halves onto the ground and breathed a sigh of relief, the deep breath hurting his damaged chest.

Looking down, Jack lifted his shirt and saw a massive bruise forming where he'd been elbowed. Poking at the tender flesh, Jack couldn't help but smile again. As good as it felt to feel like an indestructible weapon of death and destruction, it also felt kind of nice to know he could still be hurt enough to bruise what with all the splicing he'd done to make himself tougher on top of how tough he'd been built to be. Still, bruises weren't all that pleasant unless they'd come from Fontaine so Jack stuck himself with a Quik-Heal, checking on his radio as the medicine worked its magic.

It was a little more banged up than usual and the dial had been turned slightly, but the low hum of static told Jack it was still working. He adjusted the dial and clipped it back onto his belt, glancing down curiously when the radio crackled almost instantly. "Well, that was quite a show, sport." Sinclair hummed from his hip, sounding impressed. "It ain't everyday I see someone go toe-to-toe with a Brute and come out on top. I've seen those things get into scuffles with Big Daddies and win."

Flushing a bit at the compliment, Jack looked around the area and started making his way towards the first building he saw. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to butter me up for when I find you." He said, breaking a thick chain keeping the door to King Pawn closed and walking in. Much to Jack's surprise, Sinclair laughed nervously.

"Beauty, manners, **and** brains?" Sinclair said, trying to hide the nervous tilt in his voice. "I suppose Fontaine always did have all the best toys. Ah, no offense, of course." He added quickly, unable to hide his nervousness that time.

"None taken." Jack said easily, smiling proudly both at seeing through Sinclair's charm, even though he'd been joking about that so it was actually an accident, and at the knowledge that he was indeed Fontaine's best toy. King Pawn was empty and Jack made his way to the next building over: Fontaine Clinics. The door was locked with a code and just as Jack was raising his fist to break the glass so he could rip the door out of the frame, Sinclair spoke up.

"Hold on there, sport. The code is double zero four seven." He sighed, sounding resigned. "Suppose we're gonna meet whether I trust you or not."

"Thank you." Jack offered, putting in the code and walking into the lobby of the clinic.

"Before ya get too much further, chief, I got a very important question for you, if you wouldn't mind indulgin' me." Sinclair said, stopping Jack on the stairs up to the first floor of the clinic.

"Go ahead." Jack said, hearing Splicers up ahead and the whir and click of a security camera. He readied one hand with Electro Bolt and the other with Incinerate.

"Why do we do this?" Sinclair asked quietly, his voice tense.

"Because life ain't strictly business." Jack replied, smiling in relief. He really was talking with Augustus Sinclair.

Sighing noisily in relief, Sinclair let out a little laugh. "Oh, thank goodness. Alright, chief, there's some security measures up ahead, but don't you worry a bit about 'em. They answer to me, not Lamb and I'm lettin' 'em know right this moment that you're to be treated as a friend."

"Alright." Jack confirmed, switching Electro Bolt for Incinerate and taking the last few stairs before rounding the corner. The light on the security camera was indeed green and Jack took care of the two Splicers in the room. He then passed through a door into a surgery room that looked like it had been used for medical atrocities instead of actual surgeries. The usual for Rapture, Jack supposed. One of the walls in the surgery room had been knocked down and Jack walked out of it onto a makeshift walkway connecting it with the roof of the next building.

Up ahead there was a turret, but it didn't trill at Jack so he left it alone, passing it up and skirting around a giant hole in the roof. "I'm just to the right, son." Sinclair informed, Jack following his directions and passing through a hole in another wall. He came to a door that opened for him and entered a boarded up room with a sparse few essentials and a desk and monitor set-up. Sitting on a chair near the desk was a chubby, darker-skinned man. He was holding a long stick with a cigarette on the end and eyed Jack as he walked in, still looking somewhat tense despite the code phrase being used.

"Gotta say, sport, you're alot more normal lookin' than most Splicers I've seen in my time down here." Sinclair said, his voice even nicer without the static and interference from the radio. He stood slowly but didn't come any closer to Jack, one arm folded against his chest under the one holding his cigarette. "Especially one of your considerable power."

"Oh, I'm not--" Jack paused, frowning. "Well, I guess I am a Splicer, technically." He muttered, frowning more before shaking his head. "I'm immune to the negative side-affects of splicing." He said quickly, offering Sinclair an uncertain smile. "That's why I'm not all mutated."

"Immune, huh?" Sinclair asked, curiosity taking over his nervousness as he came a few steps closer to Jack. "How'd you manage that? Last I heard, there wasn't a single Plasmid on the market that didn't result in the user gettin' a Splicer chic makeover eventually."

Smiling, Jack looked away, trying to hide a flush from his cheeks. He got the same feeling from listening to Sinclair talk that he'd always gotten from listening to Atlas, finding Sinclair's accent and way of speaking adorable and weirdly sexy. "I was genetically coded as a fetus with Adam to be immune to the mutations and addiction and stuff." He explained, glancing up at Sinclair and finding he'd come a little closer. "Or, that's what I understood from the reports about me I read.

"Fascinatin'." Sinclair muttered, his curious eyes looking sharper up close, bordering predatory.

Letting out a slow breath, Jack shifted a little. Was it warm in the little room they were in or was it just him? "You-- I wasn't joking about letting you touch my muscles." He said quietly, face heating up more when Sinclair hummed quietly, a small smirk forming on his face.

"You flirtin' with me, son?" Sinclair asked huskily, coming a little closer.

"I mean, you've been flirting with me since you first contacted me." Jack mumbled, unable to keep from smiling a bit as Sinclair finally stepped fully in front of him. He was so much shorter than Jack, especially up close, but he had such a presence. Jack could understand why Fontaine liked him.

"And you've been awful receptive to my advances." Sinclair hummed, taking a pull from the stick holding his cigarette and letting the smoke out slow. "Take your shirt off and tell me all about that business proposal you have for me." He ordered, grinning when Jack obeyed easily despite how much he was blushing, removing his pack and then his shirt and setting both aside. "Red is definitely your color, sport." He muttered, licking his lips slowly.

Somehow flushing darker, Jack looked away shyly. "Thanks, Papa." He said softly, both Jack and Sinclair freezing instantly. Sinclair came out of it first, a grin spreading quickly across his face.

"My goodness, chief." Sinclair said, sounding rather delighted. "I know I kept callin' you "son" and such, but I sure wasn't expectin' that."

"Yeah, me either." Jack mumbled, finding as he thought about it that "Papa" didn't feel gross anymore. Maybe it had been enough time for him to stop associating it with that day in Ryan's office. Or maybe it just fit Sinclair well enough that his brain had managed to shift the association back over from trauma to all the happy chemicals that used to come with having a Papa. He supposed it didn't matter. "Do you-- does that bother you?" Jack asked, finally focusing on Sinclair again.

Humming thoughtfully, Sinclair tapped the ashes off his cigarette and Jack couldn't help but watch them fall. "I don't reckon it does, chief." He decided, smirking again. "That sorta thing ain't usually my speed, but there's somethin' about the way you say it that I rather like."

Smiling a little to himself, Jack cleared his throat and tried to get his brain to focus on convincing Sinclair to come with him. "So about a month ago, Frank dethroned Ryan and he's been working towards getting Plasmids producing again so he can sell them to the surface." Jack started, pausing when Sinclair looked from his pecs to his face with a raised eyebrow.

"Frank? That's awful casual of you." He said, seeming to be searching Jack's eyes for something. "How ever did you manage to get on a first name basis with our dear Mr. Fontaine?"

"Oh, um, we-we're sort of in a relationship." Jack replied, frowning when Sinclair's eyes widened and he stepped back. "No, it's not-- I mean--" Huffing, Jack rubbed the back of his neck nervously. It was so much easier to be smooth over the radio. "Look, Frank told me about how close you two used to be and he-- well, he was sort of hoping me and you would hit it off so--" He flushed darker, unable to look at Sinclair. "--so you could join our relationship." He finished meekly, finally glancing up at Sinclair and deciding his surprised look probably wasn't a bad sign. "He misses you alot, I think."

Catching Jack's eyes for a moment, Sinclair let out a surprised breath and looked away again, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. "I-- well--" Laughing softly, Sinclair ran a hand through his hair. "I'm usually a bit more articulate, but I must admit I'm a little taken aback by the idea of Frank Fontaine wantin' to share what's his."

Laughing softly, Jack nodded. "Yeah, he's pretty possessive." He said, not really realizing how dreamy he sounded. "You should've seen my neck before I had to use a Quik-Heal earlier." When Sinclair was quiet for awhile, Jack looked over to him uncertainly and flushed at the way Sinclair was eyeing him, looking curious and amused in equal measure.

"What's your name, son?" Sinclair asked, closing the distance between them again and going back to eyeing Jack's chest admiringly instead of craning his neck to look at Jack's face.

"Oh! Jack. Um, just Jack." He replied, deciding he didn't want to use Ryan's surname even though it was technically his too but he couldn't really use Fontaine's surname either since it wasn't technically his yet. He and Fontaine hadn't really talked about getting married since that day in Ryan's cell and Jack hadn't brought it up because thinking about it gave him a weird mix of excitement and nervousness that he didn't like feeling.

"Well, and you'll find I say this to everyone, but in this case I actually mean it, it's a pleasure to meet you, Jack." Sinclair said, running the tips of his fingers teasingly from Jack's neck, between his pecs, and down the middle of his chest to just above his bellybutton. "Now, why don't you go ahead and tell me why ol' Franky thinks he needs me when he already has Rapture and an absolute unit like you on his side." He ordered, flashing Jack a charming smile, his fingers still lingering on Jack's skin.

Swallowing hard, Jack nodded softly. Augustus Sinclair might've been as gay as a night in Rapture was never-ending, but Jack was as gay as the ocean was wet and he was having a very hard time focusing with Sinclair teasing him and the thought that he was going to get to sleep with both him **and** Fontaine on the regular if Sinclair agreed to come with him. "He-he said that there's no one who could sell Plasmids to the surface better than you." Jack replied shakily, his breath hitching slightly when Sinclair's fingers drifted lower and stopped just before his belt.

"Did he now?" Sinclair hummed, taking his hand from Jack's stomach to pluck the cigarette from the holder. He took the last drag from it and didn't notice the way Jack was eyeing it almost eagerly as he flicked the butt away. Sinclair let the smoke out slow as he tucked the holder away in his pocket and then looked up at Jack, suddenly looking a little upset. "Almost two years apart and he has the nerve to send someone else to deliver his sweet-talk."

Frowning and shrinking away a little, Jack looked down at Sinclair in confusion. "Does-- that mean you won't come with me back to his penthouse?" He asked uncertainly, not really sure what to make of Sinclair's shift in mood. Fontaine had mood swings like it was no one's business and Jack was good at adapting how he behaved to best suit how Fontaine was feeling, but Sinclair was unfamiliar territory and Jack didn't want to mess this up by saying or doing the wrong thing and having to take Sinclair in forcibly.

Huffing, Sinclair looked away from Jack. "No, I ain't sayin' that." He grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm just annoyed is all. Not that you aren't an absolute gem, mind, but I didn't get so much as a phone call from that big jackass the whole time he was busy playin' revolutionary and now all of a sudden--" Sinclair broke off, letting out a breath and seeming to try and compose himself. "All I'm sayin' is, when we get to him and I see his stupid smug face again, I'm gonna slap his lips right off and then put 'em back so I can kiss the dumbass."

Not entirely sure if he was really supposed to find someone threatening and insulting his Daddy so cute, Jack covered his mouth to hide his smile. When Sinclair noticed, he shot Jack a glare but then cracked a smile of his own which made Jack laugh softly and look away. "Sorry." He mumbled, moving his hand. "I just-- you're cute when you're angry."

"Oh am I now?" Sinclair demanded, his voice pretend angry. He went to smack Jack on the chest but froze when he felt how firm his pec was. "Good lord, son." He mumbled, reaching up to give it a squeeze and marveling at how firm and full it was. "You could put most ladies to shame with these."

Flushing darkly all over again, Jack bit his lip and flexed subtly, eyes going wide when Sinclair practically moaned.

"You did that on purpose." Sinclair accused, glaring up at Jack but not removing his hand.

Looking away shyly, Jack gave a light shrug. "You liked it." He mumbled defensively, glancing over and smiling when he caught Sinclair staring at his chest appreciatively.

"That I did." Sinclair agreed, grabbing the other pec and giving it a squeeze. "Do it again." He said in quiet excitement, humming approvingly when Jack obeyed. "Lord have mercy." He mumbled, brushing his thumbs across Jack's nipples and grinning when his breath hitched. "Oh? You like that, son?" Sinclair teased, looking up at Jack's red face and doing it again.

"Yes, Papa." Jack breathed, biting his lip as Sinclair took both nipples between his fingers and started to rub them.

"So, if you're with our darlin' Franky, I imagine you're more fond than most of hurtin' while you feel good. Am I right?" Sinclair asked coyly, tugging on Jack's nipples when he nodded. "Out loud, son."

"Yes, Papa." Jack replied, slowly but surely hardening in his slacks.

"Good, good." Sinclair hummed, tugging rather hard on Jack's nipples and giving them both a twist when Jack gasped. He kept it up while Jack moaned lightly and breathed shakily, only removing his fingers once Jack's nipples had practically doubled in size from the attention. Grinning, Sinclair lightly pressed his thumbs into Jack's nipples and Jack's hips jerked hard, the younger man biting his lip to stifle what probably would've been an embarrassingly loud whine. "Feel good, sugar?" Sinclair asked, smirking when Jack looked down at him.

"It feels amazing, Papa." He practically whispered, having never realized his nipples were so sensitive. Fontaine grabbed his pecs every now and again, but he'd never really paid special attention to the nipples themselves and Jack had certainly never thought to try it. Suddenly Jack realized that Sinclair twisting his nipples had hurt and that they were now currently quite tender. Without even meaning to, Jack seemed to have lowered his defenses for Sinclair. Apparently he was quite a sucker for a handsome face and fine accent. Then again, Jack supposed he'd already known that.

Humming in approval, Sinclair's grin softened into something a little more affectionate. "I am gonna take such good care of you, honey bee." He said lightly, laughing softly when Jack flushed anew at the pet name. "If my knees were just a decade or so younger, I'd suck your soul right of you here and now." Sinclair sighed, admiring how red Jack's face was and smiling when his eyes widened in surprise and his dick jumped in his pants. "Suppose we'll just have to wait until we get to Franky's for all that."

Eyes widening further, Jack took the radio from his hip. "That reminds me. I should try to let him know I found you." Sinclair nodded and took a step back to give Jack some room as Jack pulled the radio close. "Daddy? Daddy can you hear me?" He asked, glancing away when Sinclair raised an eyebrow at him.

"I see you have a type." Sinclair teased, looking at Jack's hand with Jack when the radio crackled.

"Hey, d--t good news f--" Fontaine replied, the static on the radio worse than ever from so far away.

"The interference is really bad, Daddy." Jack said, frowning deeply even as he felt some part of himself he hadn't realized was tense relax upon hearing Fontaine's voice. "I have Augustus, we're getting ready to head back."

"--ght, doll. See yo--"

Sighing softly, Jack clipped the radio back to his belt. "Well, at least it seemed like he could hear me."

Humming in agreement, Sinclair offered Jack a smile, able to tell Jack was a little upset at the frequency not holding up. "I'll get my belongin's packed up." He said, walking over to the desk and grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the desk. "Alright. I'm good to go, sweet cheeks." He declared, smiling when that made Jack crack up.

"Is that really all you have?" Jack asked once he finished laughing, tilting his head slightly at Sinclair.

Suddenly being reminded of a massive puppy, Sinclair couldn't help but marvel at the fact that Fontaine didn't have Jack running around in a collar. Lord knows the man was into stuff like that. "I'm afraid so, butterscotch. Unless you fancy swingin' by my old digs to help me pick up some essentials. I was fairly recently evicted by Lamb's little cult and I didn't exactly have time to grab anythin'." Sinclair replied easily, hiding well how annoyed he was at what had happened.

"You used to live around here?" Jack asked, unable to mask his surprise and immediately realizing how rude his tone was. Sinclair laughed though and Jack couldn't help but smile again, finding he rather liked the sound of Sinclair's laugh.

"Heavens no, sugar stacks." Sinclair replied, waving away the very idea. "I had me a lovely little place over in Mercury Suites. Just under Franky's penthouse, actually. I managed to grab a travel bag when the war broke out but I haven't been back since."

"Well Mercury Suites is under Frank's protection and the higher levels were blocked off by a collapsed path, so your place might still be intact." Jack replied, smiling hopefully at Sinclair. "I'd be happy to take a look once we get there."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing on two legs?" Sinclair said, smiling at Jack and caressing his cheek lightly. "I suppose if you insist it would be rather nice to have access to my full wardrobe again. Among other things, of course."

"I insist, then." Jack replied, picking his shirt up and stuffing it in his bag before slinging his bag back on.

"Well, alright, then. Lead the way, puddin'." Sinclair said, smiling fondly when the nickname made Jack blush lightly. He was going to absolutely spoil this boy rotten.

Nodding, Jack led the way back out of Sinclair's hide-out and out across the rooftops. He kept an extra sharp eye out for danger now, but was surprised by the lack of Splicers in the area. When they reached the giant hole in the roof, Jack realized it led down to King Pawn and looked at Sinclair. "Mind if we take a shortcut?" He asked, motioning at the hole with his head.

Laughing until he realized Jack was serious, Sinclair frowned lightly. "I know I'm awfully attractive for my age, dumplin', but I wasn't jokin' about my knees not bein' what they used to be."

Smiling, Jack swept Sinclair into his arms and held him close. "Now do you mind?" He asked, feeling rather good about the dark blush he got out of Sinclair.

"Well, I suppose if you're gonna do all the heavy liftin'." Sinclair muttered, holding onto Jack and feeling a bit light-headed from the sudden wave of arousal that washed over him when Jack scooped him up like he weighed no more than a lithe housecat.

"You're not heavy." Jack assured, lifting Sinclair a bit higher and lowering him again a few times like he was lifting a weight before deciding he'd best behave when Sinclair's blush only got worse. He bit his lip to keep from laughing at how badly he was flustering his new Papa and jumped down into King Pawn, gently setting Sinclair down once they were safely on the ground. He gave Sinclair a moment to collect himself and then continued to lead the way, finding the streets back to the dock were oddly empty.

Half expecting and ambush, Jack was straining to hear anything and kept his eyes darting around vigilantly, but he and Sinclair actually made it to the dock with no further interruptions. Still, Jack didn't relax until he and Sinclair were both boarded on the bathysphere and on their way back to Mercury Suites.

"I guess Lamb managed to get the message to her flockies that they oughta stay away from you, honeybun." Sinclair stated, sprawling out leisurely on the bathysphere seats and smiling at Jack in the dim light.

"Yeah, I guess so." Jack agreed, setting his bag aside and sighing in relief. After a bit of sitting in comfortable silence, Jack got an idea and looked over at Sinclair. "Wanna fool around?" He asked, smiling when Sinclair looked at him in surprise. "I could blow you or something."

Placing his hand rather dramatically over his heart, Sinclair smiled at Jack. "You really are a man after my own heart." He said, beckoning Jack forward with his free hand. "I hope this ride is gonna take a minute because I think I know just how I wanna get you off once you're done showin' me what that sweet mouth of yours can do, sugar-lump."

Flushing a bit, Jack moved over to Sinclair and knelt between his spread legs. Since Sinclair was sitting, Jack was still a little too tall to comfortably give him head even kneeling, but he'd never let a little thing like discomfort keep him from enjoying himself before and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Freeing Sinclair's cock eagerly, Jack found that it was much different from Fontaine's. It was thicker and seemed to have extra skin that Fontaine's didn't. Tilting his head a bit, Jack gripped him and gave him an experimental pump, eyes widening a bit as the skin seemed to slide along Sinclair's cock.

"Never seen one uncut before, have ya, puddin' pop?" Sinclair asked, slightly breathless from the attention Jack was giving him. It had been quite some time since he'd last had anyone but his own hand and even that had been awhile. Rapture wasn't exactly a safe place to stop and masturbate in, after all.

"No, I haven't. It's so thick." Jack hummed in awe, suddenly grinning. "I can't wait to have it inside me." He said, indeed sounding quite excited, before running his tongue over the exposed head and humming happily at the taste. Sweat and salt and musk. Two out of three of Jack's favorite flavours.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Sinclair leaned back against the seats. "Gotta say, the idea of you saddlin' up and ridin' me like a stolen pony is rather stirrin'." He said, moaning softly as Jack stretched his jaw around half his cock in one go. "My goodness, sweet pea." He breathed, brushing Jack's messy hair from his eyes and keeping his fingers in his hair when he was done. "Not much for takin' it slow, are ya?"

Glancing up, which made Sinclair's cock twitch in his mouth, Jack pulled up, licking his lips a bit before speaking. "Should I slow down, Papa?"

"No, no, take it however you want, honeypot." Sinclair purred, smiling down at Jack and moaning when Jack went right back to sucking him halfway into his mouth. " _Lord_." He breathed, stuck between the want to throw his head back and revel in the bliss of Jack's warm, inviting mouth and wanting to watch Jack take him in like that's what those deliciously plump lips were made for. In the end watching Jack won out over getting lost in bliss, Sinclair unable to look away as Jack took him to the root and swallowed against him like it was nothing. No wonder Fontaine liked Jack enough to claim him, the boy was positively sinful.

Listening to Sinclair moan and swear under his breath was reigniting Jack's arousal, but he kept on-task, one hand going to play gently with Sinclair's balls and the other planted firmly on the older man's thigh as he added a slow bob to his suction. Jack never touched himself during sex unless told to. He wasn't really sure why, maybe because he simply got too into servicing his partner or taking whatever they were dishing out, maybe he was just patient, but whatever the case, Jack always found himself content to stew in his own arousal until it was his turn.

When Jack took Sinclair to the root once more and swallowed against him again, Sinclair moaned, his hips twitching as he fought down the urge to buck. "Good _god_ , sugarplum." Sinclair panted, stroking Jack's hair lightly as he pulled up to do some positively sinful things to the head of his cock with his tongue. "When I said I'd suck your soul outta your body, I wasn't meanin' it as a challenge."

Pulling back to laugh softly, Jack planted a soft kiss to the head of Sinclair's cock. "It's sort of nice being able to do this at my own pace." He said softly, slowly licking a long stripe from the base of Sinclair's cock to the tip. "Frank is a bit more controlling than you are." Jack glanced up to catch Sinclair's eyes as he swallowed him to the root again, sucking hard and trying not to smile when Sinclair tightened his grip in his hair and bucked his hips.

"I-I bet he is." Sinclair breathed shakily, loosening his grip and gently stroking Jack's hair as an apology for pulling it. Jack hummed happily around his cock and Sinclair's head finally fell back. "Lord have _mercy_ , snowflake." He shuddered, leaking heavily onto Jack's eager tongue. "Better let up unless you want it in your mouth." Sinclair warned, managing to look down again only for his head to fall back once more when Jack swallowed his cock down yet again and sucked like he was trying to pull the cum right out of him. He couldn't have held it if he wanted to and his hips bucked lightly as he came down Jack's throat and then onto his tongue as Jack pulled up.

Lapping at Sinclair's head until he was milked dry and cleaned up, Jack pulled away, offering Sinclair a smile when the older man looked down at him. "Thank you, Papa." He breathed, leaning forward to lightly nuzzle Sinclair's crotch before pulling away again. He'd gotten into the habit of thanking Fontaine just about every time Fontaine came in his mouth since it drove him crazy, so it seemed natural to thank Sinclair too.

Much to Jack's surprise though, Sinclair laughed. "Thank **you** , buttercup." He panted, reaching to gingerly put himself away before huffing softly and smiling down at Jack. When Jack wiggled a little, clearly uncomfortable due to his no doubt painful erection, Sinclair smiled wider and reached down to cup Jack's cheek affectionately. "Little people pleasure, ain'tcha?" He asked softly, chuckling softly when Jack leaned into his touch. "Didn't even get yourself outta them tight pants cuz you were so focused on me."

Jack went to open his mouth, but Sinclair pressed a finger to his lips. "Take your pants off and lay down on your back for me, honey bear." He ordered, voice still gentle and warm. Jack obeyed as easily as he ever had and when Sinclair nudged his legs with his foot, they parted instantly. "Such a good boy. So obedient." Sinclair praised warmly, smiling when Jack's dick twitched in his underwear. "You like that, muffin? You like bein' a good boy for your Papa?"

Dick twitching again, Jack nodded eagerly. "Yes, Papa." He replied, remembering how Sinclair had demanded a verbal answer before.

Smiling more, Sinclair placed his foot on Jack's straining erection. "What a good boy, rememberin' to use your words." He praised, pressing down lightly on Jack's dick, a note of something a little less warm and little more cruel entering his smile as Jack's eyelids fluttered and his breathing got heavier. "If this gets to be too much for you, pumpkin, you just let me know and I'll stop right away." Sinclair informed, not wanting to hurt Jack anymore than he wanted to be hurt. "But in the meantime, and this oughta be somethin' you're used to, don't you go squirtin' until you're told, you understand?" He asked, watching Jack's reaction closely as he added more pressure.

"I understand, Papa." Jack breathed, hips twitching lightly at the conflicting feeling of Sinclair's shoe pressing against his sensitive dick. Even through his underwear it was such an intense feeling and even moreso when Sinclair added more pressure and started to rub. Choking on a moan, Jack's head fell back and his hips bucked lightly into the pleasure-pain being provided to him.

"Hands behind your head now, darlin'." Sinclair ordered, placing a cigarette in his holder as he watched Jack obey. "Good. Bend your knees and keep your legs spread." He lit up his cigarette, letting the first drag out slow as he watched Jack do as he was told. "Now, try and hold still for me, okay?"

"I'll try, Papa." Jack promised, looking up at Sinclair from his position spread out on the floor. It took a concentrated effort for Jack not to buck or even twitch when Sinclair pressed down on his dick hard and increased the speed of his rubs, but he managed, the almost desperate need to please driving his self-control.

"What a pretty picture you are, spread out for me like a butterfly under glass." Sinclair hummed, raising an eyebrow when Jack's dick twitched under his foot. "Oh? Did you like that one? You wanna be my little butterfly?"

Whimpering softly, Jack nodded. "Yes, Papa. I like that one." His thighs flexed hard as Sinclair raised his foot only to step down rather hard, a broken moan leaving him as he barely kept from moving.

"I knew one would stick eventually." Sinclair said softly, smiling around his cigarette holder. "I've had quite enough of butterflies bein' around Lamb's little collective, but I think for you, I could find a fresh appreciation." He didn't give Jack a chance to respond as he kept rubbing, the action keeping Jack from voicing more than a moan.

The radio on Jack's belt crackling caught both of their attention and Sinclair reached down to grab it, pulling it close as he kept working Jack casually. "That you, Franky?" He asked, smiling despite himself when a familiar voice greeted him.

"It's been too long, Sin." Fontaine replied, sounding pleased.

"Oh, we'll be talkin' _all_ about how long its been, that's for damn sure." Sinclair threatened, looking down when Jack whined highly.

"Was that Jack?" Fontaine asked, surprising Sinclair with the very slight concern in his voice. "He ain't hurt is he?"

"You hurtin' down there, butterfly?" Sinclair asked brightly, turning the radio so Fontaine could hear Jack clearly.

"N-no, Papa." Jack huffed, his dick straining harder than ever. He was so close to cumming but he was trying desperately to hold it.

"Ah." Fontaine said, his tone amused if a bit perplexed. "I see you two hit it off."

"Oh, certainly. Jackie's an absolute treat." Sinclair replied, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Don't think you won't be catchin' an earful for that too, Franky. I know you sent this sweetheart to come charm me so I'd come back to your asshole self 'stead of sendin' you a big, fat middle finger through the pneumo like you deserve."

Chuckling softly, Fontaine sounded fond when he spoke again. "I fuckin' missed you, Sin."

"Don't you--" Sinclair started, looking down at Jack when he whined again.

"Please, Papa, may I cum?" He whined softly, biting his lip when Sinclair raised an eyebrow at him.

"Now, now, butterfly, Papa's on the phone." He scolded lightly, turning his attention back to the radio with a wicked little smirk as Jack whimpered. "Now, as I was sayin', don't you think for even a second that sweet-talkin' me is gonna get you out of anythin', Frank. You're in a whole heap o' trouble as far as I'm concerned."

"Alright, alright." Fontaine sighed, still sounding far too pleased for Sinclair's liking. "We'll discuss whatever you want as soon as you arrive, promise."

"I'll be holdin' you to that." Sinclair promised, turning the radio again. "Say goodbye, butterfly."

"B-bye, Daddy." Jack somehow managed to say, his eyes prickling with tears from the effort of keeping himself from cumming.

"See ya soon, doll." Fontaine said, sounding even more amused at Jack's flustered tone.

Setting the radio aside, Sinclair looked down at Jack and smiled fondly. "What a good boy, holdin' it so long. You can cum now, butterfly." He said, barely getting the words out before Jack was arching and cumming with a loud, broken moan. "That's right, let it all out." Sinclair hummed soothingly, rubbing Jack lightly through his orgasm and removing his foot when Jack slumped. He gave the younger man a moment to catch his breath and motioned for Jack to come to him when he managed to crack his eyes open.

Getting to his knees shakily, Jack climbed onto Sinclair's seat with him and curled up under his arm when Sinclair pulled him close. He let out a content sigh and snuggled against Sinclair's side, smiling happily. This was his favorite part of sex, the part where he got to snuggle afterwards, high on afterglow and too content to mind that he was sticky all over.

"You alright, butterfly? I wasn't too rough on ya, was I?" Sinclair asked gently, rubbing Jack's sweaty back gently and resting his head on top of Jack's.

"I'm good, Papa." Jack replied, smiling happily up at Sinclair. "I enjoyed that alot."

"Even the part where I made you wait?" Sinclair teased, raising an eyebrow in surprise when Jack nodded.

"Especially that part." He said, smiling when Sinclair looked impressed.

"We're gonna get along just fine, butterfly." He said happily, going to toss the cigarette from his holder as he took the last drag from it but stopping short as Jack gently took his hand. Sinclair let the smoke out slow as Jack led his hand to his chest, the red-hot cherry of the cigarette facing Jack's skin. When Jack met his eyes, Sinclair saw a certain need there and he smiled gently, pulling Jack into a gentle kiss and snuffing the cigarette out against the younger man's collarbone. Jack let out a pleased noise into the kiss and when Sinclair broke it, he tilted his head to admire the burn he'd left. "I've never done that before." He admitted, meeting Jack's eyes again.

Smiling, Jack leaned up to peck Sinclair's lips. "I'm proud to be your first, Papa." He said softly, smiling when Sinclair laughed and looking outside when he realized the bathysphere was slowing down. "We're stopping."

"That we are." Sinclair acknowledged, letting Jack go so he could get his pants back on and pulling the release hatch on the door once the bathysphere was docked. He exited the submersible and stretched his legs out, sighing in pleasure as several parts of his body popped. Jack came out after him and after a brief stretch of his own, led the way to Fontaine's penthouse.

Jack was excited to see his Daddy again and Sinclair was looking forward to giving Fontaine a piece of his mind. Fontaine for his part was alerted via his security system that someone was using the elevator and decided to go down to the entryway to greet Jack and Sinclair. He was excited to see his kid and was only slightly less excited to see Sinclair again after so long apart despite Sinclair's promise that he was going to be in for it.

All in all, it was looking like it would be a very eventful reunion for all parties involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sinclair is just as much of a bastard as Fontaine is (if slightly less feral), he's just dusted in powdered sugar and drizzled with honey to make the bastardry more palatable and I will not write him as anything less than that.


	17. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fontaine and Jack learn that they should never make Sinclair cross at them in the best way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They use lube, y'all! Actual lube! Heed the tags.
> 
> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Augustus Sinclair
> 
> Relationships: Fontaine/Sinclair/Jack, Frank Fontaine/Augustus Sinclair
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sadism, Masochism, Burnplay, Punishment, Bondage, Power Exchange, Oral Sex, Blindfold, Urethral Play, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Ass-Eating, Size Kink, Unsafe Sex, Feminization, Drinking, Smoking, Crossdressing, Fur Coats

The moment the door to the penthouse opened, Fontaine opened his arms and was rewarded seconds later by Jack nearly tackling him. In a considerably better mood than when he'd woken up, Fontaine laughed and hugged Jack tightly. "It wasn't even a whole day, doll." He mumbled into Jack's ear, smiling more when Jack burrowed his face further into his neck.

"I still missed you." Jack mumbled, giving Fontaine's neck one last nuzzle before pulling up to kiss him. Fontaine kissed him back but Jack kept it short so he wouldn't start getting bitey and then smiled happily at Fontaine. "Mission successful." He said excitedly, pulling back to look at Sinclair, who was leaning against the doorway to the penthouse and watching the pair with a small smile. When his eyes met Fontaine's, however, his smile dipped into an annoyed frown and when Fontaine sighed lightly, Jack let him go and moved away fully, deciding it was best to get out from between the two.

"So, you wanna head somewhere more comfortable to start givin' me my earful, or you wanna do it out here?" Fontaine asked, smiling a little despite himself and trying hard not to smile any wider when Sinclair narrowed his eyes at him.

Pushing off the doorway, Sinclair walked up to Fontaine calmly and once he got within arm's reach, he stopped. When Fontaine opened his mouth again, Sinclair slapped him across the face as hard as he could. "Almost two years!" He shouted, slapping Fontaine's hand away from his surprised face and reaching up to tangle his fingers in Fontaine's hair. Sinclair pulled the taller man down to kiss him hard but when Fontaine went to put a hand on his hip, Sinclair pulled back and slapped the offending appendage hard, making Fontaine retract it and frown at him. "You haven't earned your touchin' privileges back, you jackass." Sinclair hissed, releasing Fontaine's hair and placing his hands on his hips.

Sighing, Fontaine shook off his stinging hand a bit and nodded. "Yeah, alright. I guess I deserve all that." He admitted, going for what he hoped was an apologetic smile. "Ya really that mad just cuz I didn't call you for awhile?" Apparently he'd either gotten the expression wrong or he'd chosen his words wrong because Sinclair visibly ruffled.

"I'm mad because in the almost two years you were busy playin' revolutionary, you never once bothered to contact me in any way and now all of a sudden you send _someone else_ to do it." Sinclair clarified, voice raised quite a bit more than he was strictly comfortable with, but finding he couldn't help it. 

"But you like Jack, don't you?" Fontaine reasoned, grinning before he could stop himself when Sinclair glared at him.

"Jack is an absolute treat, as I mentioned in the bathysphere on the way over here, but that is not the point." Sinclair replied more calmly than he'd been expecting. "My point is that we were _friends_ , you slimy sack o' shit! You can't just cut ties with people whenever you so please and then come crawlin' back the moment you need their business expertise!"

"I warned you about the whole Atlas thing before I cut ties!" Fontaine defended, sighing and willing himself to speak quieter when Sinclair raised both eyebrows at him. "Look, it ain't like I didn't _want_ to contact you in some way, but didja ever think of how it would'a made you look if Ryan found out about you talkin' with the man fightin' 'im for his city?"

" **Don't--** " Sinclair started to yell, taking a breath to keep himself from doing so and jabbing Fontaine hard in chest. "Don't act like you kept your distance for _my_ sake. I--" Sinclair was cut off as Fontaine grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him close, wrapping both arms around him and holding him flush against himself. Due to the angle, Sinclair's face was right in Fontaine's chest and he couldn't help but notice that Fontaine's scent hadn't changed a bit even after so long. He still smelled like expensive cigars and good booze with that undertone of just enough cologne. It was comforting, damn him to hell.

"It wasn't entirely for you, you're right." Fontaine admitted quietly, holding Sinclair tightly despite the fact that he hadn't started struggling yet. "But you really were one'a the reasons. I was also busy though, and it would'a been a big risk tryin' to contact you while I was _playin' revolutionary_."

"You are the single most paranoid person I have ever met." Sinclair muttered angrily, unable to find the will to struggle against Fontaine's hold despite his assertion that Fontaine wasn't allowed to touch him yet. He'd always been a huge sucker for physical affection and Fontaine, rat bastard that he was, knew that. Sinclair had been touch-starved since Rapture went to shit so Fontaine's hold was working wonders on him, damn him to hell **again**.

"Kept me alive this long." Fontaine muttered back, laying his head on top of Sinclair's. "Besides, I didn't just send Jack after you so I could ask you to work with me. I missed you, Sin. I missed you alot."

" _With_ you?" Sinclair asked, looking up at Fontaine when he pulled away a bit to look down at him.

"What?"

"You said you wanted to ask me to work _with_ you, not _for_ you." Sinclair said, enough of his anger having grudgingly died to make room for curiosity.

Smiling, Fontaine tentatively cupped Sinclair's cheek and let out a relieved breath when Sinclair allowed it, even leaned into it a little. "Yeah, _with_ me. Partners, Sin. You and me and Jack livin' in this city like kings while me and you use Plasmids to milk the surface for all it's worth."

"Look, Franky, as nice as all that sounds, and believe me, it sounds just a hair shy of a dream come true, I miss the sun. Just cuz you took to Rapture like-- well, like a fish to water, doesn't mean I can go the rest of my life without it." Sinclair said, removing Fontaine's hand from his cheek. "I always dreamed of havin' an island to retire on once I'd milked this world for all it was worth."

"Well I ain't quite made enough progress to afford an island yet, but if it'll make you say yes, I'll put one in the budget right away." Fontaine said, tilting his head at Sinclair and giving him a pleading look. "C'mon, Sin, I can't do this without you. You know I was always shit at the marketin' side of things. It's why I had a whole department for it and you had like two people."

Smiling despite himself, Sinclair looked away to hide it and his eye was caught by Jack. He was standing off to the side, his hands clasped to his chest and his eyes wet. He looked like he was watching a particularly dramatic episode of his favorite soap opera or something equally cheesy and sappy. Laughing softly, Sinclair turned his head in the other direction and shook it. "Oh, alright." He grumbled, looking to Fontaine again and pretending not to hear the happy little gasp from whereabouts Jack was. "But you still owe me for ditchin' me for so long."

"Deal." Fontaine said, sticking his hand out to Sinclair. "However you wanna make me pay for that one, I'll take it on the chin, minimal fuss, promise."

"Oh, you're gonna regret that, Franky." Sinclair promised, the cruel smile he rarely showed off gracing his face as he shook Fontaine's hand.

"Yeah, I know." Fontaine replied, smiling despite the rare glimpse at the real Sinclair under all the oozing Southern charm and honeyed words. "You're worth it, Sin."

Shaking his head, Sinclair took his hand back and leaned up to peck Fontaine's lips. "Sweet talkin' son of a bitch." He mumbled fondly, smile sweet once again.

"I been called worse." Fontaine said, motioning for Jack to come to him. "Now, what say we all take a load off in the lounge and we can discuss our next move?" He suggested, wrapping an arm around Jack's waist and smiling at Sinclair.

"Nope." Sinclair said, looking quite certain as Fontaine frowned in confusion at him. " **I** am goin' to go take a nice, hot shower and then a nice, long bubble bath while Jackie heads to my apartment to see if it's still standin'." He informed, poking Fontaine in the chest, though much more gently than before. "And **you** are gonna help me wash while Jackie's busy. **Then** we can all have a business discussion before I teach you never to make me cross at you again."

Swallowing softly despite himself, Fontaine tried to smile and let out a laugh that was more nervous than he would've preferred. "Alright, Sin, have it your way." He sighed, looking to Jack. "You okay with all that, doll?"

Smiling nervously at Fontaine, Jack nodded softly. "I think so, Daddy." He said, looking to Sinclair and trying to puzzle out how he managed to be so scary with how short and squishy he was.

Flashing Jack a loving smile, which eased some of his noticeable tension, Sinclair started walking up the stairs. "If my place isn't trashed and you happen to find somethin' comfy lookin', I'd be sincerely grateful to you for bringin' it back for me, butterfly." He mentioned as he was passing Jack, grabbing Fontaine by the back of his shirt once he was up the first few steps.

"Sure thing, Papa." Jack replied, looking uncertain again as Sinclair dragged Fontaine up the stairs. "Good luck, Daddy." He added, getting a laugh from both men and taking some comfort in how genuine both laughs sounded. Maybe this was just Fontaine and Sinclair's dynamic and he shouldn't be too worried. Fontaine didn't seem uncomfortable, after all, just a little nervous. Given what Sinclair had done to him in the bathysphere, Jack could understand his nervousness. If that was Sinclair's usual taste in fun, Jack couldn't imagine what his punishments looked like. Deciding he'd just have to trust that Fontaine could handle himself, Jack left the penthouse and, after putting his shirt back on, got started on figuring out how to get to Sinclair's apartment.

As Sinclair got naked in his bathroom, Fontaine leaned against the sinks and watched, appreciating the view with a slight smile. "I see you managed to keep that figure I always loved so much." He hummed, smiling more when Sinclair glanced at him before turning the shower on.

"Well, thanks to your antics, mind, good food became a bit of a hot commodity, but once I learned to be a little less picky about the prepackaged stuff, I found it fairly easy to keep up my girlish figure." Sinclair said, stepping under the spray of hot water and sighing happily. "Hot showers also became rather rare. You are never, ever again allowed to deprive me of my luxuries, do you understand me, Frank?" He said, shooting Fontaine a serious look past the steam he was creating.

"Yeah, I understand." Fontaine replied, walking over and rolling his sleeves up before helping Sinclair clean himself off. "Don't do your hair yet." He ordered gently, offering Sinclair a soft smile. "I wanna wash it for you while you're soakin'."

Humming softly as he eyed Fontaine, Sinclair nodded in approval. "Tryin' to win back some favor, I see."

"Nah." Fontaine said, washing Sinclair's back for him. "I just missed spoilin' ya. Doin' it to Jack is great cuz he doesn't quite grasp that he's worth spoilin', but I sorta missed doin' it to someone who knows it's what they deserve."

Snorting softly, Sinclair glanced at Fontaine again, smiling despite himself. "Layin' it on thick, there, Franky. I might start thinkin' you actually did miss me and weren't just bullshittin' so I wouldn't take a knee to your precious family jewels."

Leaning into the spray of the water, Fontaine swept Sinclair's wet hair back and kissed him behind the ear. "I did miss you, Sin." He insisted softly, voice low and sincere. "I missed you enough that I let you boss me around and threaten me in front'a my kid."

Humming softly, Sinclair turned the water off. "I suppose it is rather unlike the Frank Fontaine I used to know to be pushed around like that." He admitted, turning to face Fontaine and smiling at how wet he'd gotten. He started undoing the buttons of the very expensive shirt he'd just soaked in order to be close to him. "I don't recall tellin' you at any point that you'd earned your touchin' privileges back, you absolute scoundrel."

Shrugging out of his shirt as Sinclair pushed it off his shoulders, Fontaine threw the garment aside. "Add another turn on the rack for breakin' the rules, then." He murmured, pulling Sinclair close and kissing him.

Sighing softly in pleasure, Sinclair returned the kiss for a bit but then pushed Fontaine away gently. "Come on, you're not temptin' me outta my bath that easily."

Smiling, Fontaine snapped his fingers in playful disappointment but went over to the tub and started filling it. He picked out the bubble bath Sinclair used to request whenever they'd bathed together and added a generous amount to the water. Fontaine cut the water once the tub was full and steamy and offered his hand to Sinclair, smirking when the older man looked impressed and took his hand. He helped Sinclair into the tub and then left the bathroom, returning a moment later with a pillow that he set on the floor to kneel on while he shampooed Sinclair's hair. "Got a little more salt in your pepper since I last saw ya."

"It makes me look distinguished." Sinclair hummed, leaning back against the tub and closing his eyes. It was hard to believe that once upon a time, the first time Fontaine had ever done this for him, Sinclair had been half afraid Fontaine would try to drown him. Now he could completely relax under the younger man's touch, years of this back and forth they had having built up a trust that not even business rivalry could shake. Not that that was an issue anymore, but still.

"Makes ya look old." Fontaine replied, massaging Sinclair's temples where the majority of the grey was coming in. "Luckily you're a fine wine."

Snorting, Sinclair blindly reached back to smack Fontaine and ended up getting him right on the nose. "I don't remember you bein' quite so sappy the last time we were together, Franky."

"I don't remember _you_ bein' quite so slap-happy." Fontaine shot back, wiggling his nose to shake off the sting of the smack even as his hands kept working. "Suppose we're both changin' in our old age."

"Suppose so." Sinclair agreed, holding his breath when he heard Fontaine getting water from the tub to rinse his hair. Once he was rinsed off, Sinclair opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to smile at Fontaine. "I suppose if I were pressed, though, I'd describe you as a wine as well."

Smiling, Fontaine pecked Sinclair's lips before folding his arms on the tub and laying his head on them. "Ya mentioned good food bein' hard to find. Are you hungry? I happen to have some freshly imported goodies I could cook up for you."

"You keep this up and you're gonna make me feel bad for what I plan on doin' to you once our meetin' has concluded." Sinclair said, raising an eyebrow at Fontaine.

Laughing, Fontaine got up. "I'll take that as a yes." He said, leaving the restroom and heading to the kitchen to make some food. This would very likely actually be Sinclair's first decent meal in awhile, so Fontaine had to pull out all the stops and really dust off his old culinary skills. Being single and having trust issues that spanned ninety-nine percent of Rapture had allowed Fontaine to gain quite a bit of experience with cooking, but he hadn't done it in awhile. Not to make anything especially nice, anyway.

Fontaine was just finishing up when Jack came into the penthouse and followed his nose to the kitchen. "Is Augustus still in the bath?" He asked, pecking Fontaine on the cheek as he walked up to him and peaked over his shoulder to see what he was making. Steak with asparagus and mushrooms. While Jack recognized the vegetables, he knew for a fact he'd never had them before and he hummed curiously.

"Yeah." Fontaine replied, glancing over his shoulder at Jack before returning his attention to the mushrooms he was finishing up. "You manage to find 'im somethin' comfy to wear?"

"Oh! Yes." Jack said, coming around and showing Fontaine the silky pajamas, robe, and slippers he'd brought with him. "Everything in Augustus' apartment was kinda dusty, but it didn't look like any Splicers managed to get in." He said, folding the clothes back over his arm. "I also managed to fix the path with my Plasmids and some of the rubble that was lying around."

Raising an impressed eyebrow at Jack, Fontaine nodded. "That's my boy." He praised, pecking Jack's lips and popping him on the ass. "Now go give those clothes to Sin and get 'im settled in the lounge."

Squeaking happily at the pop, Jack smiled and nodded. "Yes, Daddy." He said happily, hurrying up the stairs to the bedroom and knocking softly at the doorway to the restroom. "Papa? May I come in?"

"Of course, butterfly." Sinclair replied with a laugh, smiling at Jack when he came in. He'd just been toweling off but Jack instantly set the clothes he'd brought aside and held out his hand for the towel. Sinclair handed it over with a smile and Jack took over, getting the hard-to-reach places for him and making Sinclair hum happily. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with myself if you two boys keep spoilin' me like this. I might jut lose my sporty figure if y'all keep doin' things for me."

Smiling, Jack set the towel aside once Sinclair was dry and showed him the clothes he'd brought. "All of your stuff was there and intact, but these looked the most comfy." He said, handing the clothes off to Sinclair and showing him the small bag of other things he'd brought. "I also found a comb and deodorant and stuff like that. I thought you might wanna have those right away."

"Well, aren't you just a peach?" Sinclair said happily, cupping Jack's cheek and giving him a peck on the lips. "You know it's supposed to be a Papa's job to take care of his boy, right? Not the other way around?"

Flushing, Jack looked down, shuffling his feet a bit. "I know. But I like taking care of you and Frank." He said, looking to Sinclair again. "We have a special dynamic. We all take care of eachother."

Smiling more, Sinclair pecked Jack's lips again. "That we do, butterfly, that we do." He agreed, finishing up with making himself presentable and then following Jack into the lounge. Fontaine was already there, setting up their food and Sinclair gasped softly when he saw the plates. "Oh, Franky!" He breathed, sinking into a plush armchair and looking up at Fontaine in wonder. "I knew you could cook, but this looks just _divine_."

Grinning, Fontaine popped the cork on the wine he'd picked out and poured three glasses before looking at Jack. "Go get washed up real quick, doll. The steak needs a little longer to rest and the wine needs to breath."

Nodding, Jack left the room and when he returned a bit later, cleaned up, and took his seat, all three men started on their meal. Jack decided that he liked mushrooms but that asparagus tasted weird and he wasn't as big a fan of that. Still, he ate his vegetables like a good boy and once all three men were done eating, Fontaine kicked off their business discussion.

"I made some last-minute adjustments to the Plasmid recipes I got from Ryan to make 'em weaker and require less Adam so I have two shipments of Incinerate ready to go, a shipment of Winter Blast ready, and I got my people workin' on Telekinesis once Jack radioed in that he had you." Fontaine explained, sprawling out on the couch as he spoke and leading Jack's head to his lap as he sat beside him. Jack changed course immediately and laid his head happily in Fontaine's lap, getting comfortable instantly as Fontaine started petting him.

As he watched, Sinclair felt an odd sort of feeling he couldn't recall ever feeling before. Something like a mix between jealousy and discomfort. Jack and Fontaine's movements seemed so practiced and casually intimate, like they'd been together for years and if Sinclair wasn't so sure both men genuinely wanted him to be a part of what they had, he'd feel like an intruder. Deciding to ignore the feeling and focus instead on business, and the lovely wine he was nursing his third glass of, Sinclair looked at Fontaine. "And that's where I come in, then." He prompted, smiling when Fontaine grinned at him.

"I can't imagine anyone else bein' able to take Plasmids and make 'em sound worth the cost despite all the little problems that come with usin' Adam." Fontaine replied, lighting up a cigar and then continuing to pet Jack, the little tugs he threw in every now and again just making Jack's eyelids flutter happily.

"Well, I'll certainly be downplayin' the side-effects since the surface isn't quite as lax as Rapture was." Sinclair replied, deciding some nicotine sounded good right about then and getting a cigarette into his holder. "However, I also happen to think you're thinkin' far too small, Franky." He added, lighting up and waiting for Fontaine to arch a brow at him quizzically before carrying on. "Plasmids were the tops down here, no one can deny that, but there are much more practical things we could send to market too. Lots of little scientific wonderments that the world above would pay top dollar for if given half a chance. For instance, all the genetically keyed whose-its and whats-its. Imagine what certain world powers would pay for such a thing. Hell, imagine what the average Jane and John would pay for it!"

"I knew havin' you around would be a grand idea." Fontaine hummed, looking quite pleased. "What else ya got for me, Sin? Lay it all out."

"Well, now that you mention it, Plasmids **are** a rather nasty business." Sinclair said, folding one arm under the other as he spoke, looking thoughtful. "See, I don't think there's a way in Hell I'll be able to convince any governments that Plasmids are safe and dandy for their populace, so I was thinkin' we don't. I was thinkin' we focus on all those wonderments I mentioned, keepin' the best ones for ourselves, naturally, and get the Plasmids sellin' _outside_ the legal channels."

"My expertise." Fontaine purred, grinning.

"Precisely." Sinclair said, grinning as well. "Play to our strengths, see? We start gettin' people hooked, word spreads, we create a loyal market. Pretty soon it won't matter that Plasmids ain't exactly safe or legal, not even the people in charge'll be able to resist tryin' 'em out."

"Whatever you have planned for me, it's gonna be worth it." Fontaine sighed, shaking his head at Sinclair and smiling. "It's damn good to talk to someone with a head for business again."

Humming, Sinclair set his empty wine glass down. "We'll see if you still think that once we actually get started." He replied, looking to Jack. "Speaking of, butterfly, I don't suppose you'd mind helpin' me pick up what I need to give our deal old Franky the wallopin' he deserves?"

Smiling a little despite his lingering uncertainties about Fontaine's punishment, Jack nodded. "Of course not, Papa."

"Such a sweetheart." Sinclair hummed happily, looking to Fontaine again and catching the fond smile he was looking down at Jack with before he noticed Sinclair's gaze and the smile took on an embarrassed note. "Now, were there any other items of business we needed to discuss?"

Taking a drag from his dwindling cigar as he thought it over, Fontaine shrugged. "Nothin' I can think of at the moment. I'll have you write me out a list of the exact wonderments you were thinkin' of and have a couple teams run recon or retrieval, but that can wait until after you've settled in a bit more."

Sinclair started to say something, but paused as Fontaine held his cigar stub over Jack. A silent exchange seemed to happen and Jack lifted up his shirt to expose his side. Fontaine eyed the expanse of pale skin and snuffed the cigar out on a spot that didn't seem all that particular to Sinclair but that he took far too long picking out for it to not be significant. Jack for his part, hissed in pain, his body tensing, but then he relaxed as Fontaine twisted the cigar a bit before flicking it into the ashtray on the table. Jack then lowered his shirt again and he and Fontaine shared an oddly tender look between them before they both looked over in time to catch Sinclair staring.

Despite not exactly being a bashful man, Sinclair did flush, looking away and clearing his throat in something approaching embarrassment. He tried not to pout as Jack and Fontaine both laughed softly and got his train of thought back in order. "That sounds just peachy, Franky." Sinclair finally replied, managing a weak glare when Fontaine snickered again.

"Y'know, I wouldn'ta told Jack not to worry about fallin' for you if I had any reservations about you watchin' us do stuff, Sin." Fontaine said, stroking his hand down Jack's side and making Sinclair realize the significance of the placement of the burn when he pressed his middle finger into it, locating it perfectly despite it being covered now and making Jack groan softly and squirm against him. "Don't gotta be all embarrassed cuz you were starin'."

"It's just-- you really like that, huh, butterfly?" Sinclair asked softly, watching Jack curiously.

"Yeah." Jack replied dreamily, smiling at Sinclair.

"Why?" Sinclair pressed, leaning forward a bit. "Doesn't it hurt or does it feel different to you?"

Sitting up to look at Sinclair properly as Fontaine stopped pressing into his burn wound, Jack shrugged lightly. "It hurts, yeah, but it's nice to feel pain. The only other time I really ever hurt is if I'm seriously injured, so the little things only you and Frank can do to me lets me feel human." He shrugged again, a little flushed from embarrassment from sharing his feelings. "It's nice."

Humming softly, Sinclair nodded, looking thoughtful. "Would you mind waitin' out by the garden for me, butterfly? I need to have a quick chat with Franky before we go raidin' my place for supplies."

Glancing at Fontaine, Jack got a nod and then nodded at Sinclair. He turned again and gave Fontaine a peck on the lips before leaving the room. Sinclair waited a moment before his eyes settled on Fontaine, a frown playing his face.

"Care to explain to me why you sent that boy to find me with the idea of seducin' me already in his head?" Sinclair asked, not giving Fontaine time to do more than frown before he started again. "Or better yet, why don't tell me if him likin' me was your bright idea or his?"

Rolling his eyes, Fontaine raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Sinclair. "You think I'd use his trigger phrase to make him like you?"

"I don't rightly know, Frank, you're a hell of alot different than you were two years ago." Sinclair replied, folding his arms over his chest defensively.

Sighing, Fontaine moved to sit beside Sinclair, shifting a bit so he could still face him. "I told Jack you'd probably flirt with him cuz I know he's your type. I told him he could flirt back if he wanted to cuz I know you're his type. I only gave the kid permission, I didn't tell him he had to do anythin'."

After eyeing Fontaine for a moment, Sinclair looked away, looking less angry now. "You've just never been one to share before, Franky. It's makin' me a little suspicious, I suppose." He said, looking at Fontaine again. "How'd you know he'd like me, anyhow? You're his type, too, and you and I aren't exactly similar in many ways."

Shrugging, Fontaine offered Sinclair a smile. "I mean, the kid couldn't even stand up to _Atlas'_ charms, I knew he wouldn't stand a chance against you. I think he's just wired towards nice-ish older men with accents."

Laughing despite himself, Sinclair pawed Fontaine's arm. "You're just tryin' to flatter me so I drop the subject." He accused, just barely succeeding in his battle with the urge to go back in for another brush of his fingers against Fontaine's firm upper arm.

"Wanna bet?" Fontaine asked, raising a playful eyebrow at Sinclair. "It took Jack like half a day to start flirtin' with me, with "Atlas", you know what I mean, so I figure that's about when he was smitten. I bet he was smitten with you the moment he heard your voice." When Sinclair scoffed, Fontaine stuck out his hand. "Ask him."

Glancing at Fontaine's extended hand and scoffing again, Sinclair shook his head. "What are we even wagerin'?" He asked, refusing to take Fontaine's hand until he had some clear terms.

"Just a friendly, no risk wager." Fontaine said, tilting his head when Sinclair looked suspicious. "Alright, braggin' rights, then."

Sighing, Sinclair took Fontaine's hand and gave it a single shake. "Fine, I'll ask him." He sighed, smiling a little fondly despite himself. "You're impossible."

"So I've been told." Fontaine replied, leaning back on the couch as Sinclair stood and adjusted his robe. "Should I wait in the bedroom?"

"Naked." Sinclair confirmed, poking the tip of Fontaine's nose. "Kneelin' on the bed like a good boy. I won't be gone long." He ignored Fontaine's dramatic grimace and left the room, finally finding his way down to Jack. "Sorry for the wait, butterfly."

Smiling brightly at Sinclair, Jack shook his head. "I didn't even notice." He assured, motioning at the waiting elevator. "Ready to go?" Sinclair gave him a nod and then they were off.

The bit of path leading up to Sinclair's place was a different color than the rest of the winding concrete walkway, but it looked sturdy and felt nice under Sinclair's slippers; fairly smooth with just enough grit for traction. "This your handiwork, butterfly?" He asked, looking over at Jack and smiling when he flushed a little. Sinclair had never met anyone who wore their emotions as openly as Jack did. It was cute and maybe made him feel a little powerful knowing he could make a sadistic killing machine blush with a little pet name.

"Yeah." Jack said shyly, glancing over at Sinclair with a smile. "With my Plasmids and some rubble."

"Quite the little architect." Sinclair hummed, walking into his apartment and looking around. Everything was indeed intact, dusty as the South in the thirties, but intact.

"Thanks, Papa." Jack giggled softly, following Sinclair into his bedroom and allowing himself to really look around now that he wasn't on a mission to find clothes like earlier. Sinclair's taste was gaudy and luxurious, similar to Fontaine's but considerably more gilded and dramatic. Of course, Jack had gotten a glimpse of that knowledge just from looking through Sinclair's wardrobe. The amount of his clothes that featured fur or silk was staggering and everything was clearly expensive.

"See that dresser over in the corner, butterfly?" Sinclair asked, motioning at the dresser and watching briefly as Jack moved towards it before he himself started digging around in his closet. "I need you to find one of my toys. It'll be a bit longer than an average penis and a bit thicker than a drinkin' straw. I want the clear one with the metal beads on the inside."

"Alright, Papa." Jack confirmed, starting to dig around in the dresser while Sinclair dug around the closet. His cheeks immediately turned red and his blush spread rapidly from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck. The dresser was _full_ of sex toys. Jack couldn't even put a purpose to most of them, but he knew they were all sex toys because they were surrounded by items he _could_ put a purpose to. Some of the things he was afraid to think of a purpose for. Some of the things were rather spiky for a dresser of sex toys. Jack supposed it made sense, Sinclair was clearly sadistic, but had so many people in Rapture really been masochistic enough to warrant all this?

Finally finding what he was looking for, Sinclair moved over to his vanity and sat down, noticing that Jack was doing just as much marveling as searching through his dresser and smiling to himself. "So, butterfly, how do you feel about helpin' me punish Franky?" He asked, leaning back against the table bit of his vanity and watching Jack while he slid on one of his shoulder length blue latex gloves.

Pausing, Jack shot Sinclair an uncertain look over his shoulder, some of his blush having lessened as he got used to what he was seeing in the dresser. "I dunno, Papa." He mumbled, going back to searching for the item Sinclair had described to him. "It would feel wrong hurting Frank."

"He'll enjoy it." Sinclair assured, wiggling his fingers in his gloves and standing to strip off his clothes. "Besides, I'll mostly need you for set-up and for man-handlin' Franky into positions while **I** hurt 'im." He added, shimmying into his panties and smiling happily at how well they still fit.

Finally finding the device he'd been searching for, Jack held it up but didn't get to enjoy Sinclair's triumphant sound. "I'll have to ask Frank if he's okay with me helping." He replied, still frowning. "Is that okay?"

Smiling affectionately, Sinclair pushed off the vanity and motioned for Jack to come closer. "Of course it is, butterfly. I wouldn't want you to do anythin' you aren't comfortable with." He smiled wryly as he got a relieved smile out of Jack, cupping his cheeks when the taller man stopped in front of him. "I'm a bastard, but I said I'd take care of you and I meant it." Sinclair finished, lightly popping both of Jack's cheeks and sitting back down to start on his thigh-high blue latex boots. "Now, how much lube has Franky got at his place?"

"Um-- I don't really know." Jack replied, kneeling to help Sinclair get his excessively long high-heeled boots on.

Frowning, Sinclair raised an eyebrow at Jack. "How do you not know? I don't believe for a second that that man hasn't been takin' you at least once a day since he got his pervy old hands on you."

Giggling softly, Jack gave Sinclair a knowing smile. "He's lucky if he gets off the hook with once a day." He mumbled, giggling more when Sinclair looked pleased by his response. "No, but, we don't really use lube." Jack continued, moving on to Sinclair's other boot. "We're more of a spit and blood kind of couple."

"Wow. Franky really lucked out with you turnin' out like you did." Sinclair murmured, eyes widening a bit and a hand covering his mouth. "You do know all about that, right? I assumed cuz you mentioned readin' reports, but--"

Taking Sinclair's hand and kissing it, Jack gave his Papa a reassuring smile. "Yeah. He answered every question I had and let me read any report I wanted. I know everything."

Smiling in relief, Sinclair nodded and held up his corset to Jack. "I'll need quite a bit of help with this bit, butterfly."

Nodding, Jack helped Sinclair finish off his outfit and he whistled once Sinclair was fully dressed. "You look stunning, Papa." He said, admiring how the bright blue latex looked against Sinclair's darker skin. Then he frowned slightly, tilting his head a bit as Sinclair turned to him with a pleased expression. "How is this a punishment? Frank's gonna be so happy when he sees you all pretty like this."

"Oh indeed he will be, but dear ol' Franky won't be allowed to touch. Hell, he'll be lucky if I let him catch more than a glance of my get-up. I might just blindfold him." Sinclair informed, a slightly surly expression playing his face. When Jack looked concerned again, Sinclair smiled a bit. "I promise you Frank will enjoy this, butterfly. I'm annoyed at him, but I really did miss him dearly and I wouldn't go riskin' this new-found thing we all got goin' by well n' truly hurtin' him."

Sighing softly, Jack decided he needed to trust his Papa and nodded. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind, Papa."

Flashing Jack a pleased smile, Sinclair moved over to the dresser he'd had Jack rifling around in and started pulling out items. "By the by, butterfly, if you don't mind my askin', when exactly did you decide I'd make the perfect addition to your life?" He asked faux-casually, glancing over his shoulder at Jack as he hunted down some handcuffs and the blindfold he wasn't sure if he'd use.

There was a pause and Jack's face was thoughtful when Sinclair glanced over again. Slowly but surely, Jack started blushing again and he looked down in embarrassment. "I decided I liked you when you called me pretty as a picture and it all sort of spiraled from there." He admitted, smiling shyly when Sinclair stopped rummaging to look at him in surprise. "I knew for sure I was in love when I accidentally called you Papa. The same thing happened with Frank." Jack frowned then, moving his head a bit in a side-to-side motion. "Well, Atlas, but you know."

After staring at Jack for a bit, Sinclair huffed and looked away, going back to rummaging. "Franky was right, damn him." He muttered, closing the dresser drawers and pawning off the stuff he'd gotten out on Jack. When Jack opened his mouth, a curious expression on his face, Sinclair decided to beat him to the punch. "He told me you probably fell for me the moment you heard my voice. Seems like he was just shy of the mark." Sinclair informed, frown growing a bit more pronounced to hide the smile threatening to creep in. "Which would be fine and dandy except we made a little wager and now he gets to tell me he was right in the insufferably smug _told ya so_ tone'a his."

Flushing all over again, Jack laughed softly in embarrassment. "I guess I do get attached pretty quickly." He mumbled, following Sinclair from his apartment when he crooked his finger at him and started leaving. "Sorry you lost the bet, Papa."

"Nothin' wrong with knowin' what you want and goin' for it, butterfly, don't you worry a bit." Sinclair assured, taking an almost floor-length, fluffy white fur coat from a small closet near the door and putting it on. He closed it up and led Jack back to Fontaine's, doing all the button-pushing required to get there since Jack's hands were full. "Now, you go and ask Franky if he's alright with you playin' helper. If he is, cuff his hands behind his back, wrists to ankles, crossed, and if he's not, come on back and let me know. If he _is_ alright with you helpin' and you feel it's necessary, blindfold him while you're at it." Sinclair instructed once they were in the entryway, taking the toy he'd had Jack hunt down.

Face going red all over again at Sinclair's instructions, Jack nodded mutely and started up the stairs. He and Fontaine had done many things, but they'd never really experimented with actual physical bondage. Fontaine sometimes made Jack hold still with his trigger phrase, but there wasn't anything strong enough to actually hold Jack down. Furthermore, Fontaine always had free reign to do whatever he pleased. This was fairly unfamiliar territory and Jack was starting to feel a little excited by the idea of helping underneath the deeply ingrained anxiety that knowing Fontaine would be getting hurt sparked in him. Walking into the bedroom, Jack found Fontaine kneeling naked near the foot of the bed and he quickly became certain his face would never not be red again.

Smirking at the shocked, nakedly aroused, look Jack was giving him, Fontaine tilted his head slightly. "Sinclair talk you into helpin'?" He asked, noting the supplies in Jack's hands.

Shaking his head to try and get his brain working again, Jack swallowed and had to clear his throat to get his voice to come out. "He asked, yeah. I told him I wouldn't unless you said it was okay."

Shrugging, Fontaine held his hands out in front of him, smirk still in place. "Strap me down, doll."

"Fuck." Jack breathed, looking away and walking over to the bed. He climbed on and took another moment to admire Fontaine before pulling the older man's arms behind his back gently. Jack crossed them like Sinclair had said and cuffed Fontaine in place, left wrist to right ankle and vice-versa.

"I see Sinclair gave you some pointers." Fontaine hummed, swaying a little in the new position and having to spread his knees to keep his balance. When Jack didn't say anything, Fontaine looked over curiously and saw that he was quite distracted with staring. Fontaine's back was arched thanks to his shoulders being pulled back and with his legs spread so wide, he imagined he was quite a sight to see. "Enjoyin' the view, doll?" He teased, smirking when Jack forced his eyes up to his face. Then an odd expression crossed Jack's face, something between a thoughtful frown and a pout, and Fontaine barely had enough time to raise an eyebrow before Jack was fitting the blindfold he'd brought over his eyes and fastening it behind his head.

"Be right back, Daddy." Jack said, pecking Fontaine's cheek and trying not to dwell on the betrayed expression he'd got when Fontaine realized he was blindfolding him. Sinclair had said to do it if it felt necessary and Fontaine was really far too pleased with himself considering this was _supposed_ to be a punishment. He told Sinclair as much once he went back to him and Sinclair smiled proudly.

"That's my boy." He said happily, brushing his hand along Jack's jaw and heading up to the bedroom after hanging up his coat. "I'm gonna do a little teasin' once I get in there, you go ahead and get this baby lubed up. And lube it up good, butterfly. If you think you're usin' too much, add a little more."

"Okay, Papa." Jack confirmed, taking the toy and frowning at it. Did it really need to be lubed up that much? It was tiny. Fontaine had told him about all the times he'd bottomed in his life, surely _this_ wouldn't be anything. Well, it didn't really matter, Jack supposed. If his Papa said lube it up, he'd lube it up. Jack was good at nothing else if not following orders.

When Sinclair entered the bedroom, he managed to keep his gasp to himself but he did press a hand to his chest. Fontaine looked delightful all trussed up just for him. "Couldn't even manage to behave yourself for my lovely assistant, I see." Sinclair hummed, stopping at the foot of the bed and letting his eyes rove over Fontaine. "Shame on you, Franky. That doesn't bode well for how you'll behave for me."

"Your assistant was starin'." Fontaine replied, head twitching to the side when he heard the nightstand drawer open and close. He hated being blindfolded but at least Sinclair wasn't mad enough to try gagging him. There were few things Fontaine drew the line at, but not being able to talk without a damn good reason, _choking on a cock_ , was one of them.

"You're a sight, Franky, can you blame him?" Sinclair asked, brushing his gloved fingers down Fontaine's chest and grinning at the way his breath hitched.

"Oh, now that's cruel, Sin." Fontaine murmured, realizing that Sinclair was wearing one of his dominatrix outfits. He fucking loved Sinclair's dominatrix outfits.

"That's Mistress to you, Franky." Sinclair corrected, twisting Fontaine's nipples and biting his lip to stifle a giggle when Fontaine hissed and arched, his cock coming to life between his legs. As tough as Fontaine tried to play, he'd always been a sucker for Mistress Sinclair and it seemed that at least hadn't changed. "Now, even though this _is_ a punishment, I'd hate to overwhelm you too badly our first time together after so long. Do you remember your safe-word?"

Huffing out a laugh, Fontaine nodded. "Starburst." He replied, getting a pleased hum from Sinclair.

"Good. Now, if you're nice and loud for Mistress and remember your manners, you might just get your seein' privileges back before this is all over." Sinclair informed, motioning for Jack to come over and seeing that the toy was practically dripping. He nodded in approval and took it from Jack. "You wanna be good for Mistress, don't you, Franky?"

Letting out a breath and trying to fight down the bratty part of himself that flared up whenever he tried submitting, the part of him that made him bossy even on the bottom and made him want to draw blood for the power-trip it gave him, Fontaine nodded. "Yes, Mistress." He replied, trying to sound sincere. There was still some brattiness to his tone, a little sarcasm that might get him in trouble, but it had been a long time and he was uncomfortable. Being an ass was comfortable, being _good_ wasn't.

Laughing softly at Fontaine's noticeable effort, Sinclair took Fontaine's cock in hand and held it firmly. "Well, I appreciate that you're tryin', Franky, but I think we have a bit to go yet before you mean that." He informed, starting to slowly feed the urethral vibrator into Fontaine's cock. Fontaine hissed and his hips jerked slightly but he managed to stay still enough that Sinclair didn't have to sic Jack on him. Each bead in the rod made Fontaine's urethra stretch in a way that was clearly painful, but he took the whole thing in one go without much more than that first hiss and the occasional twitch.

Off to the side, Jack's eyes were wide and his hand was covering his gaping mouth. Well, that would explain why it needed to be lubed up so much. His eyes kept flicking from Fontaine's relatively calm face to his stretching cock and he couldn't help but wonder how many times Fontaine must've done this to barely be reacting to it. Jack felt a little light-headed from the idea of something getting stuck up inside himself like that. Of course, he'd never tried it before. He supposed he should try to get used to the idea just in case Sinclair ever wanted him to try it. He didn't know if he'd be able to say no to his Papa after letting Fontaine literally rip his throat out while they'd fucked. Surely a little bit of dick-stretching couldn't be more painful than that had been, right?

Once the last bead was swallowed by Fontaine's cock and the toy wouldn't go any further, Sinclair turned it on and Fontaine instantly groaned loudly, his hips jerking so hard that he almost toppled over. Chuckling softly, Sinclair let the toy go and the weight of the control bit made Fontaine's cock curve slightly downward which in turn made Fontaine groan again. "Enjoyin' your punishment, Franky?" He asked teasingly, bracing one hand on one of the posts of the bedframe and hiking one leg up onto the mattress. Before Fontaine could collect himself enough to reply, Sinclair slid his booted foot forward and nudged the cool latex against Fontaine's balls, letting out another chuckle as Fontaine groaned yet again.

"Got the boots on an' everythin'?" Fontaine asked, sounding slightly pained. "Now I really wish I'd'a kept my mouth shut."

"Oh, I bet." Sinclair replied, nudging Fontaine's balls up into his pelvis and flushing a bit despite himself when Fontaine rutted slightly against his boot. "That's cheatin'." He said a little more breathily than he'd meant to, his own cock straining slightly against his panties. When Fontaine grinned in a distinctly triumphant way, Sinclair hummed in disapproval. "Still too cocky for your own good, Franky." He hummed, looking over at Jack and seeing that he was flushed cherry red and focused entirely on Fontaine. "C'mere, butterfly."

Jumping lightly as he was pulled from his daze, Jack scrambled around the bed to Sinclair's side and looked at him attentively, relaxing when Sinclair gave him a fond smile. Then Sinclair leaned in and whispered something in his ear and Jack nodded slowly. "Alright, Papa." He agreed, smiling at Sinclair and moving behind Fontaine. Jack uncuffed him with the key Sinclair had given him and tossed aside one of the pairs of cuffs before recuffing Fontaine with his hands simply behind his back.

Rolling his shoulders a bit as he was finally allowed out of the other position, Fontaine managed a single sigh of relief before he was being flipped over by strong, sure hands. His head was now hanging over the bed and his legs were being held apart by Jack. Heartbeat picking up its pace in anticipation, Fontaine waited for something else to happen and didn't have to wait long before he could suddenly see again. He blinked a few times against the contrasting warm orange light from the fake fireplace across the room and the cool blue light from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side. Once his eyes finally adjusted, Fontaine drank in Sinclair, posed above him with a smirk, and couldn't help but grin again.

"You look beautiful, Mistress." Fontaine breathed, the honest sincerity in his voice making Sinclair's smirk turn a little more genuine around the corners.

"You're not gonna flatter your way out of chokin' on my cock, Franky." Sinclair purred, grinning at the way Fontaine's cock twitched.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Fontaine replied, relaxing his neck so his head drooped against the bed and opening his mouth invitingly.

"Now ain't that a sight?" Sinclair hummed, giving Jack a nod and freeing himself from his panties while Jack lowered himself. Timing it perfectly, Sinclair slid the head of his cock into Fontaine's mouth at the same time Jack slid his tongue into Fontaine's ass. All three of them made various sounds of pleasure and Sinclair started moving, rocking his hips in shallow thrusts and getting a little further in with every in thrust.

Down on the other end of the bed, Jack pushed his tongue as far into Fontaine as it would go and wiggled it around. He'd never done this before, but Sinclair had promised both he and Fontaine would enjoy it and if the way Fontaine's hole kept clenching around his tongue was any indication, Sinclair had been right. The inside of Fontaine's ass didn't necessarily have a _good_ taste, but Jack found he liked it and he pulled his tongue out only long enough to lick a long stripe from Fontaine's ass to his balls before plunging his tongue back in.

Officially well and truly overwhelmed with the vibrator still going in his cock and the two organs filling up his other two holes, Fontaine couldn't really do much thinking. He had enough presence of mind to actually fellate Sinclair instead of just letting the older man use his mouth and throat but that was about as much as he could do consciously. It took alot to blank Fontaine's constantly-going mind, so he reveled in it while he could, squirming a bit against Jack's mouth and moaning shamelessly against Sinclair's cock, too doped up from everything that was going on to worry about how he looked.

Working himself deeper and deeper into Fontaine's throat, Sinclair eventually bottomed out and switched to long, slow strokes that bottomed him out every in thrust and left only the head of his cock in Fontaine's mouth for the out thrust. He knew Fontaine could take it harder and in a more present state of mind, might've wanted it harder, but for now Sinclair was in charge and Sinclair thought this was just lovely. A nice, leisurely throat fuck while he watched Fontaine give into his own pleasure, the brat finally broken enough to just surrender at least for now.

It didn't take long for Fontaine's hips to start giving little, twitching jerks as he drew close to an orgasm he couldn't have with the vibrator blocking the way. An uncharacteristically high whine came from him and Sinclair couldn't help but smile. It had been far too long since he'd gotten to hear _that_ sound from the ever-proud Frank Fontaine. "Need'ta cum that badly, Franky?" He asked kindly, if a bit breathlessly, pulling his cock from Fontaine's mouth so the younger man could answer.

"Yeah." Fontaine breathed, seeming to remember himself and cracking his eyes open to look at Sinclair. "Yes, Mistress." He corrected, making Sinclair bite his lip.

"You have no idea the absolutely tantalizin' picture you present, Franky." Sinclair hummed, looking over at Jack. "Could you pull our man down a bit, butterfly?"

Pulling his face from Fontaine's ass, Jack nodded and gently tugged Fontaine a little further down the bed so his head was actually resting _on_ the mattress instead of over the edge of it. Jack himself was a sight too, Sinclair noted, hair tussled, lips and chin positively _soaked_ with drool, and a slightly dazed look to his lovely green eyes. When Sinclair approached, Jack started to move but Sinclair motioned for him to stay and simply sat on the bed, starting the slow process of removing the urethral vibrator while Jack went back to his meal.

"You did so good for me, Franky." Sinclair praised as he slowly popped each bead out of Fontaine's cock. "The moment this thing is outta the way, you go right ahead and blow your load for Mistress, alright?" Fontaine nodded almost desperately and Sinclair decided to take pity on him and not force him to answer verbally. Pausing just as he was going to remove the last bit of the toy, Sinclair looked down at Jack. "Wanna take your Daddy's load, butterfly?"

Pulling away from Fontaine once again, Jack nodded eagerly. "Yes, Papa." He said, licking his lips and quickly putting his mouth around the head of Fontaine's cock once the last of the toy had been removed. It took one swipe of Jack's tongue to get everything back up to too much for Fontaine and he came with a strangled sound, Jack happily drinking down every drop. Sinclair gently stroked Fontaine's hair through his orgasm and Jack pulled away once Fontaine stopped trembling.

Eventually Fontaine's breathing evened out somewhat and he laughed softly, sounding almost embarrassed. "My damn arms are asleep." He grumbled getting a laugh from Sinclair.

"Welcome back, Franky." He said happily, looking over at Jack. "Go on and free the beast, butterfly. He still has to get the two of us off."

Jack did as he was told, removing Fontaine's cuffs and Fontaine sighed in relief, rolling his shoulders as best he could and massaging his wrists. He then petted his chest invitingly and smirked at Sinclair. "Climb aboard, Mistress. It's impolite not to finish in a man's mouth when he's been missin' you as long as I have."

Snorting softly, Sinclair shook his head but did as Fontaine bade, straddling his broad chest and allowing Fontaine to get him into the perfect position to finish him off. "Sure doesn't take you very long to go back to bein' a brat." He murmured fondly, stroking Fontaine's hair while he devoured his cock like the old pro he was.

"Ya like it." Fontaine murmured, pulling Sinclair back enough to look over at Jack. "How ya feel about blowin' your load inside your Daddy, baby doll?"

Flushing darkly, Jack was caught between looking surprised and excited. "Are you sure, Daddy?"

"Just don't be too gentle with me." Fontaine confirmed, taking Sinclair back into his mouth and getting back to work.

"Use lube." Sinclair added, glancing back at Jack with a serious expression. "I won't have any of this "spit and blood" nonsense while you two are playin' on my time."

"Yes, Papa." Jack agreed easily, lubing up his dick but not bothering with Fontaine's ass since it was still practically dripping with drool. He gently gripped Fontaine's thighs and sank into the older man easily, moaning happily at the tight, slick heat. Fontaine groaned at being filled up and that sent Sinclair moaning from the vibrations.

It didn't take long after that for both Jack and Sinclair to blow their loads and Fontaine took both like a champ. Then there was a bit of rearranging on the massive bed and soon Fontaine was on his back against the pillows, flanked on both sides by warm bodies. He sighed deeply around the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and couldn't help the content smile he wore.

"I fuckin' missed you, Sin. I haven't felt this drained in awhile." Fontaine said, pulling Jack closer in order to pull the cigarette from his mouth and blow out some smoke.

"Yes, well, we won't be makin' a habit of it. I'm all sorts of sweaty from all this latex and I can't wait for another bath." Sinclair replied, smiling despite his complaints.

"You really do look stunnin', by the way." Fontaine muttered, taking in Sinclair's outfit again and smiling when Sinclair blushed lightly this time.

"I'm aware, but I appreciate you sayin' so." Sinclair replied, glancing over to see Jack's eyes were closed and he was wearing a rather dopey smile.

Fontaine followed Sinclair's gaze and laughed softly, causing Jack to open his eyes curiously. He flushed lightly when he realized both men were looking at him and smiled brightly at them. "I also had fun." He put in, getting a laugh from both men this time and snuggling closer to Fontaine so he could drape his arm across him and rest his hand on Sinclair's side. Sinclair hummed appreciatively at the attention and everything went quiet again until Fontaine spoke up.

"So, what are we gonna do about your place bein' so very far away from ours?" He asked, looking over at Sinclair. "Cuz I don't think Jack and I can deal with the newest addition to our relationship livin' so far away."

"Are you askin' me to move in with you an' Jack, Franky?" Sinclair asked after a moment of surprised silence.

"Might be." Fontaine replied, looking over at Jack and snorting at the excited look on the younger man's face. "Yeah, that's what I'm askin'." He admitted, looking back to Sinclair. "You wanna move in with us, Sin? I think I got enough room in my closet for all your stuff too."

Making a dubious humming sound, Jack piped in. "Speaking as someone who's seen inside both of your closets, I don't think you do." He said, propping himself up to look over Fontaine at Sinclair. "But I still think you should say yes."

Laughing softly, Sinclair flashed Jack a fond smile before looking to Fontaine. "Alright, Franky. Suppose it'll be nice always havin' someone to cuddle with in this cold city."

"Oh yeah, Jack's a--" Fontaine started, getting cut off as Jack suddenly hooked an arm under him and hauled him over to his other side. Groaning as Jack scooted towards Sinclair so he could now be the broad chest in the middle, Fontaine gave Jack a weak glare. "My dick's too tired for you to be man-handlin' me like that, doll." He scolded, tired dick having indeed given a token effort at filling out some due to the ease with which Jack lifted him **one-armed** over himself like he weighed nothing at all.

"Sorry, Daddy." Jack mumbled, his smile distinctly unapologetic as he pulled Fontaine and Sinclair close and held both men tightly.

"Sure you are." Fontaine grumbled, sighing and putting his cigarette out on Jack's hip. "As I was sayin', Jack's a cuddler."

"Clearly." Sinclair laughed, hesitating before giving Jack a matching burn on his other hip.

Jack simply sighed happily after the initial soft yelp from both burns and closed his eyes. Eventually Sinclair would want to get out of his latex and corset and all of them would need to get cleaned up, but for now, all three men were too comfortable to worry about all that. Now that Sinclair was there and ready to lend his marketing expertise, the final piece they needed was in place and it would soon be time for Rapture to rise again, but for now they were content, snuggled up together in their city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got the Rapture novel and devoured it in two days!? (Two because it arrived late, I coulda done it in one) I was so pleased with the amount of little character quirks in the book that match up with little quirks I've given the characters in this! I often worry about my adequacy in regards to my characterization abilities but getting to read Fontaine hating the idea of an Adam slug inside of himself from a canon source was so validating! Nothing to do with the chapter, I was just happy ^^


	18. The Disciples Jack PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has to return to Fort Frolic to take care of some unfinished business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Frank Fontaine, Jack, Augustus Sinclair, Kyle Fitzpatrick, Martin Finnegan, Silas Cobb, Hector Rodriguez
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Daddy Kink, Masochism, Light Electrostimulation, Murder, Drug Use, Blood and Gore, Sadism, Broken Bones, Drinking, Smoking

One long bath in the penthouse's oversized tub and a few hours of napping later and Fontaine was in his office figuring out which of his teams he could spare to start moving Sinclair's stuff into his place while Jack and Sinclair were still cuddling on the bed. The indicator on one of the radios was flashing and Fontaine recognized the pattern as the signal for an emergency. He pulled that radio closer, forgetting all about freeing up a team, and turned it up.

"--inally working? Thank god. Boss, if you can hear me, you gotta get your boy up to Frolic, we can't--" Connors started, getting cut off by a loud bang. "Shit! Are you fucking--" He started, someone shouting something in the background and making him groan angrily. "Well, hold them off, I--" There was some clicking and then another bang, much louder than the last, and screaming. "Son of a--!" Connors shouted, sounding pained, but then the message ended and started back up again after a short delay.

Humming quietly to himself, Fontaine clicked off the transmission and headed back to the bedroom. "Snuggle time's over, doll, we got a little problem." He announced, instantly getting Jack's attention. "Seems the team I had takin' care'a Fort Frolic couldn't handle it. I need you to head over there and show 'em how it's done." Despite the news being an interruption to Jack and Sinclair's cuddling, Jack looked excited.

"When should I head out, Daddy?" He asked, untangling himself from Sinclair so he could sit up and look at Fontaine properly.

"Soon as possible, doll." Fontaine replied, watching with a slight smile as Jack pecked Sinclair's lips and then practically jumped up to start getting dressed.

"Suppose that means I oughta get to work as well." Sinclair sighed, sitting up and stretching out. "That list you wanted ain't gonna write itself, after all."

Back to the grind, then. Fontaine tried not to show how relieved it made him to have things moving again. He _really_ didn't do downtime well. "Alright. I'm gonna check in on the other teams." He said, stopping Jack from pecking his lips with a finger against his mouth. "You better take your pack. And radio in if you need me. Doesn't matter what for."

Pouting, Jack nodded earnestly. "I will, Daddy, I promise."

Nodding once, Fontaine gave Jack a deep, but brief, kiss and then popped him on the ass. "Atta boy. Go get 'em, doll."

Giggling happily, Jack turned to look at Sinclair. "See you soon, Papa."

"See you soon, butterfly." Sinclair replied, a fond smile playing his lips as he shimmied into some comfy pajama pants. Fontaine had immediately gone back to slacks and a dress shirt after getting clean, but Sinclair didn't plan on wearing anything less luxurious than silk pajamas until he absolutely had to.

"See you soon, Daddy." Jack said as he turned back to Fontaine.

"Hold you to it, doll." Fontaine replied, watching Jack leave the room with a bounce in his step and then waiting a moment longer before turning to Sinclair. "Wanna spy on him in my office in between gettin' stuff done?"

Covering his mouth to stifle a rather unattractive bit of laughter, Sinclair nodded. "Oh, Franky, I'd love to." He replied delightedly, excited to watch Jack work again as he followed Fontaine to his office. It rather tickled Sinclair that even knowing, and he damn well knew Fontaine knew, that Jack would be perfectly fine unsupervised, Fontaine still liked to keep an eye on him. He was sure Fontaine would say it was because Jack was a hell of a show while he was working, which Sinclair couldn't very well disagree with, but he knew it was more than that.

A few moments later, Sinclair was curled up in Fontaine's office in a plush armchair Fontaine had brought in for him and Fontaine was at the desk with the monitors, sitting in his usual swivel chair. Fontaine was off to the side, quietly checking in with his crews and glancing up at the monitors following Jack's progress to the bathysphere station every now and again. Sinclair was already busy scribbling down ideas on a bit of paper in his lap, his little reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose and eyes drifting to the monitors as well whenever he paused to consider what else to write down.

After the fairly long ride to Fort Frolic, Jack exited the bathysphere and immediately noted that the air was colder than he remembered it being. He took an otherwise familiar walk down the hall lined with sculptures on ropes and made his way into the big central area with all the neon lights. The reason for the air being unusually cold became immediately obvious once Jack entered the area of Fort Frolic with the big central staircase. The entire area was frozen, a thin sheet of ice coating every surface and making Jack miss his sweater for the second time since he'd come home. Lighting up his arms with Incinerate, Jack resolved to try and ignore the cold and made his way up the familiar central stairway.

Now that he wasn't in a terrible mood, Jack could admit that the neon lights of Fort Frolic were rather nice. A little busy, maybe, but muted somewhat by the ice encasing everything, it gave the whole area an ethereal sort of glow. He skirted around the frozen wall of water that had once been a leak and decided to check the room he'd killed Cohen in before checking anywhere else for the problem he was meant to be solving. It seemed too easy that the problem would be in the same location twice, but it also seemed worth a look.

Upon arriving in the room that housed all the musical equipment Jack had ignored on his first visit, he found the entrance to the room he'd killed Cohen in suspiciously barricaded. After using Telekinesis to move the barricade, Jack entered the room and froze in surprise as he was shot several times. The bullets didn't do more than lightly singe his shirt and he frowned at his assailant, getting a blast of Incinerate ready before the man dropped the gun and put his hands up.

"Wait, wait, wait!" He shouted, shrinking into the corner he was pressed against. "I-I'm sorry! I thought you were one of the others, I wouldn't have-- please don't fire that!"

Eyes narrowing, Jack tilted his head slightly and let the fireball in his hand fizzle out. "You're remarkably coherent for a Splicer." He said, coming closer and taking in the man's fairly normal appearance.

"I'm not!" The man quickly said, hands still up in a surrendering gesture. "I'm not a Splicer. I was hiding from the Splicers."

Humming curiously, Jack cornered the much smaller man, his massive frame blocking off any escape from the small room. He took the man's chin in hand, having put away Incinerate to do so, and tilted his face around a bit, nodding slowly when he didn't spot any mutations. "You're not one of Frank's men." Jack said more to himself than the man, knowing that the man would've known to tell him that right away since all of Fontaine's people at least knew what Jack looked like. "Who are you?"

"My name is Kyle Fitzpatrick. I was one of Cohen's." Fitzpatrick hurried out, whimpering and trying to shrink further into the wall when Jack's eyes darkened at the mention of Cohen. "I hated him too!" He said quickly, shaking lightly. "He had me rigged up with explosives when you came here the first time! I only got away cuz you killed him, I'm not--"

The hand on Fitzpatrick's chin cupped over his mouth instead, cutting off his babbling. "Can you tell me what happened here? Why it's all frozen?" Jack asked calmly, releasing Fitzpatrick entirely when he nodded as best he could.

"It's the others. Cohen's other disciples." Fitzpatrick said quickly, watching Jack carefully for any sign that he should shut up before he made the other man angry. "They heard what happened to Cohen, we all did, and they all started fighting for control over Frolic."

"And you didn't because you're not a Splicer." Jack said, tilting his head curiously when Fitzpatrick shook his head.

"No, I-- well, yes, but I just want to live, I don't want Frolic." Fitzpatrick said, his shaking slowly subsiding the longer Jack remained calm. He was still afraid for his life, but at least he didn't feel like he was any immediate danger so long as Jack looked calm.

Humming again, Jack nodded and got his radio from his hip. "How many disciples are there?"

"Three." Fitzpatrick said softly, eyeing Jack's radio nervously. "What are you--?" He was cut off by a sharp look from Jack.

"Daddy? Can you hear me, Daddy?" Jack asked, ignored the confusion on Fitzpatrick's face. Everyone had that reaction. Jack supposed it was because he was massive and imposing and his voice was fairly deep. It was probably jarring to hear something like "daddy" coming so casually from him.

"Loud n' clear, doll." Fontaine replied, voice relievingly crisp considering the radio trouble they'd had last time Jack was here.

"I have a human here. He was one of Cohen's disciples. What should I do with him?" Jack asked, watching Fitzpatrick out of the corner of his eye, free hand resting firmly on his wrench. The smaller man's eyes were wide and he was looking at Jack's radio like it contained a ghost.

"Which one is it?" Fontaine asked, sounding decidedly curious.

"Kyle Fitzpatrick." Jack replied, tilting his head as the man in question suddenly looked nervous again.

"Ah, little Fitzy." Fontaine said after a moment, chuckling softly. "Can't believe you kept your cherry intact all this time."

"I was scared." Fitzpatrick muttered, apparently loud enough for Fontaine to hear since he laughed again.

"You can decide what to do with 'im, doll, I don't care either way. He ain't dangerous but he ain't that useful either." Fontaine said, making Fitzpatrick's nervous gaze flicker to Jack again. "Unless of course you like people who cry when you choke 'em on your cock." He added, seemingly as an afterthought. Fitzpatrick flushed in embarrassment and Jack's eyes widened. In the background Jack heard Sinclair give an admonishing _"Franky"_ that only served to make Fontaine laugh.

"Right. Thanks, Daddy." Jack replied slowly, putting his radio back on his hip and shaking his head a bit before eyeing Fitzpatrick consideringly. Of course he didn't _have_ to kill him, and honestly he was sort of curious to know what the whole choking thing was about now, but would it be fun to kill him? Probably not since he was just a human. When Jack spent too long considering his options, Fitzpatrick whined softly and shrunk back into the corner.

"Please don't kill me." He muttered, voice wavering nervously. "I swear I'm not dangerous and I won't get in your way. I-- you could just leave me here, pretend I don't even exist."

"I could." Jack replied thoughtfully, gripping Fitzpatrick's chin again and tilting his face towards the light. He felt Fitzpatrick holding his breath and when he made an unimpressed face, Fitzpatrick whimpered and started to shiver again. Suddenly cracking a slight smile, Jack shook his head, letting Fitzpatrick go. "You're kinda mousy, but I bet you could be good for something. Something other than what Frank suggested." He said, tilting his head at Fitzpatrick's confused expression. "Think you can make it to the bathysphere port from here?"

"I-- y-yes." Fitzpatrick said uncertainly, still eyeing Jack in nervous confusion. "Are-are you gonna hunt me or something?" He whimpered, not feeling much better when Jack snorted and laughed.

"No!" Jack said, shaking his head at Fitzpatrick. "You'd be so boring to hunt. One little human against me. Please." He shook his head again, calming down and taking a step away from Fitzpatrick. "Go to the bathysphere port on the right and wait for me inside the one docked there. If you make it there alive and manage to not draw any attention to yourself, I'll take you with me when I leave. You'll be safer in Mercury Suites or in one of Frank's teams than out here alone."

Eyes widening in surprise, Fitzpatrick nodded, straightening up slowly. "Okay." He said quietly, letting out a breath when Jack started to leave. He really wasn't going to kill him. "Thank you." Fitzpatrick said quickly, shrinking a bit again when Jack looked back at him in surprise. "For not killing me." He clarified quietly, swallowing when Jack smiled in what looked like amusement.

"I hope you stay alive until I get back to you." Jack said ominously, finally leaving the room and deciding not to bother checking the rest of Fleet Hall since it wasn't frozen. Whoever had iced over the area with the central stairway must've been pretty strong, because Jack quickly found that it wasn't just that area that was frozen. There was nothing of note on the upper levels of the central area, but to the right of the stairway, there was another area that was even more frozen over than the central one. It would have to have been a Splicer of considerable power to put out this much ice all in enough time to keep it from melting.

The idea of getting to fight a powerful ice-based Splicer had Jack moving double-time. He quickly checked the restrooms near the entrance to the more heavily iced area after dealing with a nearby security camera and found them empty and decorated with those ugly waxy sculptures respectively. When Jack left the restrooms, he found some frozen Splicers standing around in places he hadn't noticed them before and immediately lit up both hands with Incinerate. The Splicers didn't move but Jack decided not to take the chance and started shattering them with fireballs.

As soon as the first one shattered, the others started moving and Jack felt instantly validated in his decision to not trust that he just wasn't perceptive enough to have noticed them when he came in the first time. Incinerate seemed especially effective against the half-frozen Splicers and it didn't take Jack any time at all to take care of the small horde that had failed at ambushing him. A short walk past the bathrooms, Jack found a clothing store that was empty except for another ugly sculpture. Jack's opinion of those sculptures certainly hadn't gotten any better since the last time he'd been to Fort Frolic and Jack decided he'd shatter at least a few of them before he left once he was finished taking care of the three disciples.

Down some stairs and around another frozen leak, Jack found a cocktail lounge that had a few more half-frozen Splicers and another security camera in it. Jack wasn't even sure if the cameras led to anyone now that neither Cohen nor Ryan could sic security on him, but he figured it was better safe than having to deal with flying turrets since the light of the cameras was still red and they still trilled at him. The cocktail lounge didn't have anything else of interest in it or anywhere for anyone to hide, so Jack pressed on, moving past more frozen leaks and finding another shop.

This one was a tobacco shop and that's about all Jack got since the name was long and quite French. _Le Marquis D'Epoque_. Walking inside the shop, Jack was immediately assaulted by the strong smell of cigars and liquor. He coughed once and walked further into the shop, noting with some suspicion that there weren't any frozen Splicers inside and that the ice was the thickest it had been so far. It only got thicker as Jack went downstairs and Jack was actually shivering lightly by the time he reached the bottom step, having to walk rather slowly so he wouldn't slip on the thick ice encasing each stair.

The area ahead of Jack was quite literally swirling with cold and the moment Jack stepped into it, the cold clung to his skin and began to spread. Jack backed up but it was too late, there was a thin sheet of ice spreading up his arm from where his hand had touched the swirling cold first. A figure seemed to appear from the very swirls of cold in the air, his skin off-grey and blue in some places and cracked in other places to reveal frozen blood. He was grinning at Jack while Jack fought the ice by blasting Incinerate on the affected arm.

"Well, you're something different, aren't you?" The man hummed, tilting his head and blocking a blast of Incinerate from Jack's free hand with a blast of cold. "You should be frozen by now. Mindless and under my control like the others. You'll be quite the prize once you finally freeze over."

Laughing softly despite the slight bit of panic he was feeling at the encroaching ice he couldn't do more than slow down, Jack shot the man a defiant glare. "There's only one man in all of Rapture who can control me and you're not him." He informed, biting his lip and focusing his fire inside of himself. Once he stopped blasting Incinerate on his freezing arm, the ice spread faster and the swirling cold in the room came closer to him at a gesture from the man, the cold clinging to more of him and spreading faster still with every inch of him it touched.

Under the ice, Jack started to glow. The last time he'd done this, it had hurt so bad, but if it worked, it would be worth the pain. Jack vaguely heard the man saying something smugly behind the ice starting to slowly cloud his head but he ignored him, taking as much of a breath as he could and letting the heat he was collecting go. Fire burst outwards from Jack, weaker than the last time he'd done it, but enough to melt the cold invading him and enough to make the cold swirls in the room vanish.

Doubling over, Jack drew in ragged breaths and slowly became aware of the man screaming over by a Power to the People station. Quickly getting out a med-kit, Jack shot up and waited a moment until he felt like he could move without collapsing. He looked over at the wailing man who was writhing around on the floor, his skin charred now and his blood leaking thickly from the cracks in his skin, which had grown more numerous. Letting out a breathless laugh, Jack hauled himself to his feet and shuffled over to the man, dropping down on him so he was straddling his hips and punching him so hard, he instantly blacked out. Jack could only tell he was still alive because he was still twitching so Jack kept punching until there was nothing left to hit.

Sitting back on the corpse he was now straddling, Jack shook his fist off, making little bits of blood, brain, and bone fly from his knuckles. After a bit more ragged breathing, Jack stood and shot up with an Eve hypo while he made his way back upstairs. The ice all around the area was slowly melting and luckily had been thick enough in the downstairs area to keep his explosion from catching anything on fire. His bones were somewhat achy from the blast, but he was slowly but surely feeling better with the medicine in his system and the Eve in his veins.

"I'm assumin' that blast was our first disciple down." Fontaine piped up from Jack's hip, making Jack smile. Nothing soothed his aches and pains quite like hearing his Daddy's voice.

"Two to go." Jack confirmed, his voice a bit hoarse. How his throat had wound up fucked up by the blast, Jack couldn't imagine, but he supposed all of him hurt so maybe it would be weirder if his throat had gone unscathed.

"Ah, ya did that explosion thing again, didn't you?" Fontaine asked, sounding interested.

"Yeah." Jack said, clearing his throat and trying to get it to come out less scratchy. "Can't you see me, Daddy?"

"The cameras are frozen. I can barely see anythin' through the ice and they can't move."

"Which is a cryin' shame since I was promised quite a show to get distracted by." Sinclair added, sounding rather pouty and a bit further away than Fontaine.

Laughing softly, which led to a bit of coughing, Jack entered a dripping tunnel that would take him further into Fort Frolic. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, my shirt can't take much more fire. I'll probably be ditching it soon." Surprisingly enough, Jack's coughing fit seemed to have gotten his throat back in order and he was feeling almost entirely recovered by the time he passed through a door and a spotlight suddenly snapped on and pointed at him.

"That does make me feel better, actually." Sinclair hummed, making Fontaine chuckle. Jack might've laughed too, but he was too busy trying to pinpoint where exactly the blinding beam of light fixed on him was coming from so he could impale it with an icicle to do much more than squint angrily.

Quite suddenly, the spotlight moved, focusing elsewhere, and just as Jack was readying an icicle now that he could see the damn thing, he noticed what it was pointing to. A small group of Spider Splicers were scrabbling along the ceiling towards him. After considering his options briefly, Jack still impaled the spotlight but then brought out Electro Bolt to start taking care of the Spiders. The very first Spider Jack hit with a lethal dose of electricity blew up, exploding in a shower of gore and fire.

Blinking in surprise, Jack looked down at his hand. That was different. Had **he** done that? Frowning, Jack chose another Spider from the rapidly approaching group and super-charged it like the last one. It also popped and a few of the other Spiders dropped from the ceiling to start charging at Jack, muttering and shouting and rambling like all Splicers did.

When one of the Spiders got close enough, Jack realized they looked odd even for a Splicer and he grabbed her with Telekinesis, keeping her a safe-ish distance away as he looked at her. The other Spiders were kept at bay by a wall of ice Jack quickly erected around himself and they seemed especially angered by his elemental choice, cursing about the cold while they beat against the ice. The Spider writhing in Jack's telekinetic hold looked more sickly than usual, her skin an ashy sort of grey with dark grey veins running under her skin.

With curiosity eating away at him and with the other Spiders nearly through the thin ice barrier he'd erected, Jack shot a bit of fire at the Spider in his hold. The resulting blast melted the remaining ice completely and sent Jack himself as well as the Spiders who were trying to get at him flying outwards. Jack hit a nearby wall but recovered first, frowning deeply as he stood. He definitely **hadn't** done that.

Shirt now completely ruined, Jack switched back to Telekinesis and simply tore through the remaining Spiders, deciding he'd had quite enough explosions for the day. Once that was done, Jack noticed that among the ripped up Splicer bodies were piles of grey powder. A brief examination revealed it to be gunpowder. "What the hell?" Jack mumbled, sweeping his hand off on his pants and shaking off the tattered, charred remains of his tank top.

"I see you're admiring my kittens, sugar." An unfamiliar voice called, making Jack jerk his head in the direction it had come from. There was nothing but a speaker there and Jack frowned at it.

"Come out here and I'll show you my admiration up close." Jack replied, deciding to start searching the area. There was no way whoever this was would be dumb enough to come face him, so it wasn't like he needed to wait around.

"Much as I'd like to, I'd rather soften you up a bit first. The lively ones don't take the boom-powder as good." The voice replied from a speaker near the Sir Prize casino that Jack was about to enter.

"Good luck with that." Jack mumbled, impaling the speaker just because he could and entering the casino. Inside there was a battle being raged between a few gunpowder Splicers and some normal-looking, because that's apparently what the level of weird was at now, Splicers could now look normal, Splicers. After watching the fight for a bit, Jack ended it, simply tearing everyone in the room apart with Telekinesis and moving on to the upstairs part of the casino when he didn't find anything of interest downstairs.

There was equally little of interest in the upstairs part of Sir Prize and soon Jack was back outside again, looking around for his next direction. The nearest establishment was Rapture Records, so that's where Jack went. The entire store smelled strongly of gunpowder and just about everything was burnt so Jack felt like he was on the right path. There was nothing noteworthy on the small upper level of the store, so Jack jumped down the broken stairway to the lower level.

Walking a little further into the equally burnt and sparse lower level, Jack's attention was caught by a beeping that started slow but quickly sped up. Instincts kicking in at the last second, Jack dove aside just in time to only get lightly scorched by the proximity bomb he'd set off. Quickly getting up, Jack coughed a bit and waved at the smoky air, trying to clear it up enough to figure out if the blast was the beginning of an ambush or just a booby trap.

"Still alive down there, sugar?" A voice on the upper level called, shifting Jack's suspicions over to ambush as he moved further back to look up to the upper level and caught sight of a grinning man holding a lit molotov. "Oh good! That means my kittens still get to play with you!" The Splicer shouted once Jack came into view, throwing the explosive up at some grates on the ceiling. The grates came loose and started to fall from the small blast, revealing a pack of Splicers that had been waiting, it seemed, to get ignited.

Jack didn't have long to react as the explosive Splicers fell from the ceiling into the downstairs area with him. He leapt to the side, the first Splicer blowing up before he could erect a thick barrier of ice and coating him in smoldering blood and gore. Jack wiped the burning chunks of flesh from himself as best he could and thanked his unnatural toughness for the fact that his skin was only reddened from them and not seriously burned like it should be. There were several more explosions and Jack could hear the man above laughing once it was all over.

"What's wrong, sugar!? Don't you like my kittens anymore!?" He shouted, throwing a molotov at Jack the moment he melted his ice barrier.

Fairly annoyed now, Jack caught the molotov with Telekinesis and threw it back, jumping back onto the upper level and stepping down hard on the man's chest as he dove out of the way of the explosive and rolled to a stop near the door. Jack heard a few ribs give under his stomp and the man howled in pain. After taking a moment to indulge his sadistic side by letting the man scream and writhe in pain, Jack pressed down harder, his foot going through the man's chest and killing him instantly.

Letting out a slow breath, Jack yanked his foot from the Splicer's chest cavity and shook it off a bit. There was realistically no getting all the blood off of any of his clothes at this point, but the action gave him a moment to breathe. Sweeping his bloody hair back with his equally bloody hands, Jack took one last deep breath and decided he was okay, pressing on and exiting Rapture Records to look around for his next mark. A few Splicers were dumb enough to attack him while he was deciding whether or not Pharaoh's Fortune would be worth checking out and they received swift bludgeonings with his wrench. Jack needed the more physical way to kill now that he wasn't in the best mood.

Deciding that he couldn't very well skip Pharaoh's Fortune, Jack walked into the casino and could tell immediately that something had happened inside. There were scorch marks all over the walls and floor and it looked like a barricade of slot machines had been blown outward from the doors at some point. Walking further into the casino, Jack noted the pieces of person all over the place and then caught a whiff of burnt flesh coming from the upstairs area of the small casino. Ascending the stairs, Jack swiftly dealt with a security camera and then noticed all the carnage in the room. In the back, near a tipped over pool table, was a corpse that was just barely whole enough to be recognizable and beside the corpse was a radio.

"I found the team that was supposed to be clearing Frolic. I don't think there's any survivors." Jack informed, wading through the gore and broken furniture on the floor to the radio and picking it up. It was still working so he turned it off, wiped as much blood off of it as he could, and stuck it in his backpack.

"Eh, Connors was kind of a prick anyway." Fontaine replied flippantly, making Jack laugh softly.

"Yeah, I remember from when I rescued him." He replied, heading over to a big, decorative hole in the floor that led to the downstairs area and jumping through it to reach the lower floor faster. There was a nasty crunch as he landed on a charred corpse, but Jack barely paid any mind to the burnt chunks of person that shot up his pant legs as the corpse popped under his sudden weight. His clothes were ruined anyway, and it's not like the gore bothered him.

Vaguely, Jack wondered which part of the conditioning had made him so okay with the blood and violence of Rapture, but he quickly decided it didn't matter when the soft chugging of turrets caught his ear. He located the machine, _machines_ , there were two of them, quickly. They were standing watch outside a place called Eve's Garden. Putting his wrench away and getting Electro Bolt ready, Jack overloaded the turrets and passed through the doors to Eve's Garden once they'd blown up.

The upstairs area was really more of a balcony with a few tables but a quick glance downstairs told Jack exactly what sort of establishment this was and he flushed a bit, eyes going wide as he saw the stage with the poles on it. There was a doorway nearby that Jack assumed led to the stairs, but he decided to take the short way down again, hopping the railing of the balcony and landing with a heavy _thump_ on the stage. The wood creaked under his weight, but didn't give and Jack looked over to the large bar taking up half the room when there was a shout and the sound of bottles clattering to the floor.

"Holy f-- you came outta nowhere!" A man shouted, having apparently fallen off his barstool when Jack landed on the stage. The way he drew out the F of his unspoken expletive as well as his general slurred speech told Jack that the man was super drunk. The deformities poking out from under his tattered clothes told him he was a Splicer.

Deciding this must be the last disciple, Jack let loose a blast of Electro Bolt and blinked in surprise when the man rolled out of the way of the bolt of electricity and then up onto his feet all in one fluid motion. He swayed on his feet like he might tip over again but then pointed his first two fingers at Jack. Jack was half expecting the man to start yelling when a sudden pressure underneath him sent him flying into the air. Thanks to his bulk, the Cyclone Trap didn't get Jack quite up to the second story again, but he did land with an even louder **thud** on his back a few feet away from the stage.

Taking a moment to stare in shock at the ceiling, Jack felt a pressure form under his back and barely had enough time to roll over before the Cyclone Trap launched him again. Scrambling to his feet, Jack looked at the man who was grinning near the bar, a bottle of liquor pressed to his lips even as he grinned while his free hand swayed lazily over to where Jack was. "Guess you're the one who killed Cohen." The man said after he'd lowered the bottle, Jack jumping away from a new trap and getting another charge of Electro Bolt ready. "Old fucker had it comin'. 'Bout damn time someone gave 'im a taste of his own medichine."

"And I guess you're Cohen's final disciple." Jack replied, shooting a sustained arc of electricity at the Splicer and following him around the bar as he kept just out of reach. Even when Jack tried to jerk the bolt forward in anticipation of where he'd go next, the Splicer seemed to sense it and changed course just in time to avoid a lethal jolt.

"Final?" The Splicer asked, letting out a drunken bark of malicious laughter. "Figures those other two pansies couldn't stand up to you." He flicked his first two fingers in Jack's direction again and Jack was launched off his feet once again, this time landing against a group of chairs and tables and shattering all of them. "I was always the besht outta all'a us, the strongest." The man slurred, grinning again as Jack got up, looking pissed. "That's why Cohen liked me best." Those final words were a distasteful snarl, the man's face darkening as he said it.

Suddenly Jack was using shots of Winter Blast to counter rapid shots of Incinerate from the man, still watching for any errant gestures from him to avoid another Cyclone Trap. When a fireball made contact and knocked the wind from Jack's lungs with the force of the impact, his anger and annoyance suddenly switched over to a kind of mania and Jack laughed with his first fresh breath of air. "You are pretty strong." Jack admitted, his sudden laughter having apparently surprised the man enough that he stopped attacking for the moment. "But you're still nothing."

Grinning broadly, the man laughed, his whole body swaying with the action. "S’what I been tryin' to say! But the Splicers, they all got _real weird_ when Cohen died, y'know?" He asked, looking at Jack once he'd stopped laughing. "Like-like they needed someone to bosh 'em around or somethin'. S'weird."

"Yeah, sure, real--" Jack started, getting interrupted by the broken gibberish and mad laughter of a large pack of Splicers coming from the upstairs area.

"I told 'em to fuck off, but they jus' didn't listen." The man carried on, going back to his booze as Jack started getting swarmed. "So I told 'em then, I said "take over Cobb's terf, then" but they were shit at it." He giggled and then seemed to get angry again, snarling and smashing his bottle of booze against the wall. "If they don't get this right, I dunno what I'll do with 'em." He grumbled darkly, the Splicer horde seeming to grow more desperate with his words.

"Fascinating." Jack bit out sarcastically, blasting a flurry of icicles outwards from himself when the Splicers started getting to be too much. The blast killed several and maimed the rest enough that they were too busy writhing and screaming to start fighting again right away. The last disciple seemed just fine, of course, only looking mildly curious at the screaming Splicers all around him. With both parties distracted, Jack managed to shoot up with an Eve hypo, that last attack having drained his Eve quite alot.

"Looks like they're shit at this too." The man mumbled, tilting his head one way and then the other, his voice barely audible over all the screaming. **"Shut up!"** He suddenly bellowed, the heads of the Splicers nearest him popping with his shout and ending their howls of pain.

At first Jack was stunned but then he remembered having done something similar with Sonic Boom once. There were easily almost a dozen Splicers with popped heads now, though. It made Jack grin all over again as he realized how truly powerful the inebriated Splicer before him was and he used Telekinesis to crush the remaining wailing Splicers. "I can't believe I missed out on all this my first go around." Jack hummed, lighting up with Incinerate and coming closer to the last disciple. "You would've been so good for my mood after dealing with Cohen."

Sneering, the disciple started to crackle with electricity. "You're as sick as he was!" He shouted, starting to tremble. "You have no idea the--" Before he could get out much more, Jack started firing shots of Incinerate at him.

"I don't care." Jack retorted, managing to keep the Splicer on the defensive until he had him cornered. "Whatever you're about to say, I. Don't. Care." The Splicer he now had cornered tried shooting Jack with a blast of Electro Bolt, but the jolt tapered off before it could do more than make Jack's nipples hard. He had a brief moment of trying to decide between relieved and disappointed before realizing he had to consider such things now and instead decided to wonder when exactly he'd started craving pain so much. When the man tried to shock him again and only succeeded in hurting himself, Jack realized he was out of Eve and laughed. "Guess that's it for you."

The final disciple's eyes seemed to snap onto Jack's belt the moment he realized why his Plasmids weren't working and Jack had just enough time to realize he was eyeing the Eve hypos there before he lunged for one to swivel out of the way and instead punch the man hard in the back of the head. He went down heavily and groaned dazedly, surprising Jack by not being dead. Laughing softly, Jack shook his head and walked over to the dazed Splicer.

"You were fun." Jack complimented, not really sure the man could hear him, but not waiting for a response before bringing his foot down on the man's head. This time he died in one hit, Jack's stomp popping the man's head and spattering brain and bone everywhere. Sighing in satisfaction, Jack started making his way to the exit of Eve's Garden but got distracted by an advertisement on the stage.

Covered in blood as it was, the poster really shouldn't have caught his attention, but it was the shock of yellow that had somehow gone untouched by any gore and a nagging familiarity that made Jack lower the radio he'd raised to his lips and step onto the stage. He swiped some of the blood from the toppled poster's front and read "Andrew Ryan's favorite gal" for the second time in his life. Suddenly a few things clicked into place and Jack raised the radio again, frowning a bit. "Jasmine Jolene was a stripper, wasn't she?"

" _Technically _, she was just a dancer, she didn't do any actual strippin'." Fontaine replied, tone casual as ever.__

__"Pretty miss Jolene didn't _have_ to since she was old Andy's second favorite side piece." Sinclair added, his voice somewhat mocking. "That man had awful taste."_ _

__"I'll have you know Cohen was Ryan's second favorite side piece." Fontaine corrected, sounding oddly offended. "Jolene came in third."_ _

__"Franky, I swear to the almighty above, if you--"_ _

__" **I** was his **favorite** side piece." Fontaine said, a grin clear in his voice and a laugh leaving him when Sinclair sighed deeply._ _

__Giggling softly at the exchange, Jack shook his head, all but forgetting about his mother being an exotic entertainer. "That's gross, Daddy."_ _

__"Like you ain't had a piece." Fontaine replied, a single beat passing before he added a quiet _"oh shit"_._ _

__"You made that poor boy do _what_!?" Sinclair shouted, making Jack flinch lightly. Oh shit indeed, Sinclair sounded pissed._ _

__"I didn't _make_ 'im do anythin'!" Fontaine shouted defensively, several whacks sounding off in quick succession a moment later. "Ow! Quit hittin' me!"_ _

__"It's true, Papa!" Jack quickly added, frowning a bit. "I mean, Frank suggested it, but he didn't force me and I did enjoy myself a little."_ _

__There was a longer beat and then Sinclair sounded closer like he was holding the radio. "You aren't just sayin' that to calm me down, are you, butterfly?" He asked quietly, actually sounding a fair bit concerned._ _

__"No, I'm not." Jack assured, carrying on with his mission to leave Fort Frolic. "I really only enjoy it because Ryan hates it so much, but still, I have fun. Frank wouldn't force me to do something I really didn't want to do."_ _

__There was a relieved sigh before Sinclair spoke again. "Alright, butterfly, so long--" When Sinclair cut off abruptly, Jack had to make sure he hadn't accidentally moved the dial or something. When he saw that he hadn't, Jack went to ask if Sinclair could still hear him, but Sinclair beat him to it. "I'm sorry, maybe it was just my blood pressure makin' me hear things, but did you just use the present tense while talkin' to me about diddlin' your own biological father?"_ _

__"Um, yes?" Jack replied, frowning and quickly taking care of a couple of stray Spiders who came skittering from some crevice or another when they heard his and Sinclair's voices._ _

__"Ryan is still alive!?" Sinclair shouted, his voice a tad further away like he wasn't facing the radio anymore._ _

__"Ah, I knew I forgot to tell you somethin' important." Fontaine said, his tone light. Then it got more serious. "Augustus Sinclair, if you start hittin' me again, I'm gonna--" There were several whacks and then Sinclair cried out in surprise. The radio made a sound that Jack figured was it clattering to the floor and he frowned in concern. Then Sinclair gasped in a way that sounded decidedly aroused and gave a cry of what Jack recognized as pleasure-pain a second later._ _

__"Fr-Franky, that-- oh my lord." Sinclair tried, his complaint? Compliment? Statement? Going unspoken as he broke off into breathy blaspheming._ _

__Covering his mouth and flushing, Jack couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, well, I think I'll leave you two to it." He stated loudly, hoping he was loud enough to be heard from wherever the radio had ended up and over whatever was happening between the two older men now. He might've decided to listen in under normal circumstances, but as it was, he was still hoping to chat with Fitzpatrick on the ride back to Olympus Heights, so turning the radio down seemed like a good idea. It would be awkward trying to listen to Fontaine and Sinclair being dirty with another person around, after all._ _

__Taking care of the occasional Splicer on the way, Jack eventually made his way to the bathysphere he'd told Fitzpatrick to meet him at and poked his head in first to see if he'd made it. Fitzpatrick jumped at Jack's sudden entrance and didn't seem to calm down any when he realized it was him and not a random Splicer. Jack boarded the bathysphere and sealed up the door, sitting down across from Fitzpatrick and pulling the lever to get the submersible moving. He clicked the option for Olympus Heights and took off his backpack, realizing that Fitzpatrick was staring at him as he set it down on the floor._ _

__"I'm glad you didn't die." Jack said in lieu of a greeting, seeming to startle Fitzpatrick and smiling in amusement at the smaller man when he looked up at his face nervously._ _

__"You-- that's an awful lot of blood." Fitzpatrick said, looking a little queasy._ _

__"None of it's mine." Jack informed casually, getting out a cigarette and offering one to Fitzpatrick after he'd lit his own up. The smaller man took the offered smoke with shaking fingers and flinched when Jack offered him a finger flame to light up with. Jack watched Fitzpatrick draw in a shaking breath of smoke and let it out in a slightly less shaky exhale. "Better?" He asked softly, trying not to startle the jumpy man._ _

__"Yeah." Fitzpatrick practically whispered, offering Jack a nervous smile. "Thanks."_ _

__"Can I ask you some questions?" Jack asked, smiling a little when Fitzpatrick nodded. "You mentioned Cohen and explosives. What was that all about?"_ _

__"Oh." Fitzpatrick mumbled, looking down at his lap. "Well, since I wouldn't splice, Cohen started telling me I wasn't living up to my full potential. He started saying I wasn't dedicated enough to art. He really meant I wasn't dedicated enough to him, though." He grumbled the last part bitterly before taking another drag of his cigarette and carrying on. "I woke up the day you arrived at Frolic plastered from the waist down to a piano rigged with explosives. He wanted me to play the most difficult song he'd ever written perfectly to redeem myself and prove I was still dedicated to art."_ _

__"Wow." Jack mumbled, mulling that over for a bit while he and Fitzpatrick filled the bathysphere with smoke. "Guess I arrived just in time, then." He said after a bit, laughing softly and shaking his head._ _

__"You really did." Fitzpatrick agreed, managing a smile. "I'd already been at it for hours when Cohen told me to take a moment so he could "greet his guest properly". I think he would've gotten bored with me and blown me up if he would've thought he could play with you instead."_ _

__Humming in agreement, Jack eyed Fitzpatrick up and down and leaned forward a bit. "How do you know Frank?" The question put Fitzpatrick visibly on edge again despite the casual tone Jack had asked it with and that made him tilt his head curiously._ _

__"I mean-- everyone in Rapture knew Mr. Fontaine. Even if not, like, _personally_." Fitzpatrick said cautiously, glancing at Jack's radio before looking to him again. "That-that's who that is, right? **The** Frank Fontaine. The--" He trailed off then, not really wanting to say _"the one who's supposed to be dead"_ in case it came out wrong but not really knowing how else to get his meaning across._ _

__"Yeah." Jack replied, a smile playing his face. "It'll all make sense when you see him."_ _

__"Right. Okay." Fitzpatrick muttered, deciding to drop the subject lest he say something wrong and tick off the giant, bloody murder-machine across from his own small, very breakable self. "Can I ask you a question?" He asked after a bit of silence that helped him gain some nerve._ _

__"Mmhm." Jack hummed, putting his cigarette out in one of the bathysphere's ashtrays. It didn't quite have the same pleasant burn to put one out on himself and furthermore, he didn't want to spook Fitzpatrick all over again now that he suddenly sounded like he'd gained some confidence._ _

__"Um, what _are_ you?" Fitzpatrick asked slowly, looking at Jack uncertainly. "I mean, you don't really look like a Splicer, but--" He trailed off, motioning vaguely at Jack and snapping his fingers in a mimicry of Incinerate. "Y'know?" Much to Fitzpatrick's relief, Jack laughed softly and gave him an understanding nod before going into a brief explanation of what he was and why he didn't look like other Splicers. "Wow. That's-- wow." Fitzpatrick muttered, nodding a bit as it all sank in._ _

__"Yeah." Jack agreed, smiling as he remembered how oddly special it had made him feel when learning how much money and resources Fontaine had sunk into creating him._ _

__The rest of the ride was much the same, with Jack and Fitzpatrick trading questions until the bathysphere started to slow down. It was at that point that Jack decided to risk turning his radio back up and when he didn't hear any incriminating sounds right away, he left it turned up. When the bathysphere docked, Jack led the way to Mercury Suites. Olympus Heights had been pretty much cleared during the Tenenbaum incident, but Splicers had the uncanny ability to pop up out of nowhere, even when they couldn't actually teleport, so it was better safe than sorry._ _

__Luckily for Jack and Fitzpatrick's newfound tenuous comfort around eachother, the walk was Splicer-free and soon Jack was motioning to the lounge just off the entryway in the penthouse. "You can wait in there. I'm gonna go tell Frank I'm back and see what he wants to do with you." Fitzpatrick gave Jack a nervous nod and Jack offered him what he hoped was a reassuring smile before heading upstairs. He couldn't wait to see what kind of shape Sinclair and Fontaine were in after what he'd heard before turning his radio down._ _


	19. The Disciples Shifted PoV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 18 from Fontaine and Sinclair's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jack, Augustus Sinclair, Frank Fontaine, Kyle Fitzpatrick, Silas Cobb, Hector Rodriguez
> 
> Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Augustus Sinclair
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sadism, Masochism, Biting, Blood Kink, Nipple Play, Feral Behaviour, Dry Humping, Scratching, Light Bondage, Begging, God Complex, Drinking, Smoking, Murder, Blood and Gore, Broken Bones

A few minutes after Jack left to start his mission in Fort Frolic, Sinclair was curled up in Fontaine's office in a plush armchair Fontaine had brought in for him and Fontaine was at the desk with the monitors, sitting in his usual swivel chair. Fontaine was off to the side, quietly checking in with his crews and glancing up at the monitors following Jack's progress to the bathysphere station every now and again. Sinclair was already busy scribbling down ideas on a bit of paper in his lap, his little reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose and eyes drifting to the monitors as well whenever he paused to consider what else to write down.

While Fontaine was scribbling down a few architectural issues one of his teams had brought to his attention, Sinclair hummed loud enough to get his attention and he looked over to see the older man looking thoughtful and tapping his pen on his thigh. Leaning back in his chair, Fontaine simply waited and eventually Sinclair ceased his tapping and looked over, flushing a bit when he caught Fontaine watching him and seemed to realize he'd interrupted his work.

"I just had me a thought I think you'll rather like, Franky." Sinclair started, looking back down at his paper and not waiting for Fontaine to respond before carrying on since he'd been waiting patiently for the conclusion of that first hum already. "Since we're splicin' up the surface, I was thinkin' that when we send out all these gizmos alongside the Plasmids, we should make sure as many of 'em as possible are rigged up with pheromone emitters." He said, looking over again and smiling at how Fontaine was grinning at him. "That way when the surface folk start goin' the tried and true Splicer route, you'll be able to control 'em. It'll be like havin' your own little army in every country we land in."

"You're a goddamn wonder, Sin, have I mentioned that lately?" Fontaine asked, shaking his head at Sinclair's brilliance.

"I wouldn't tell you even if you had, Franky." Sinclair assured, happily going back to his paper. "There ain't such a thing as praisin' me **too** often, so long--"

"As I'm sincere and devout in my praise." Fontaine finished, smiling when Sinclair looked at him in surprise. "'Course I remember the rules, Sin. You were just about the only other person with a god complex that I could actually stand in this place, I wouldn't ever blow sunshine up your ass without a good reason." The insincere praise of a suck-up was a pet peeve he and Sinclair shared. It used to make Fontaine drop his mask real quick, but it had always made Sinclair lay his on thicker and that was always more scary in Fontaine's opinion. He himself had always been a more predictable sort of dangerous, whereas the nicer Sinclair was acting, and the safer he tried to make you feel around him, the more danger you were usually in.

A snake in the grass through and through. It was one of the things Fontaine liked the most about Sinclair.

Laughing softly, Sinclair returned to his paper with a pleased little smile. "I suppose I'd consider you a little wonder as well." He mumbled happily, just as thrown by all the things about Fontaine that hadn't changed as the things that had. Still, he was settling nicely into this new, yet familiar, dynamic and it felt good after what felt like ages living in the madness of war-torn Rapture.

"Just a _little_ wonder?" Fontaine teased, laughing when Sinclair rolled his eyes but kept smiling.

"Oh, alright." Sinclair sighed dramatically, glancing over at his companion. "An average-sized wonder." He conceded, laughing when Fontaine gaped in shocked offense at him.

"Daddy? Can you hear me, Daddy?" Jack called from the other side of the radio, cutting off Fontaine's budding complaints and making both men turn to the monitors they'd been neglecting.

"Loud n' clear, doll." Fontaine replied after unmuting the radio so Jack could hear him and pulling the small device close.

"I have a human here. He was one of Cohen's disciples. What should I do with him?" Jack asked, Fontaine finally locating him on the monitors but finding he couldn't quite see anything more than Jack's head and a bit of his shoulder thanks to the angle of the camera.

"Which one is it?" Fontaine asked, decidedly curious to find out which one of Cohen's boys had actually managed to resist splicing after all this time.

"Kyle Fitzpatrick." Jack replied, Fontaine pausing and frowning over at Sinclair when he couldn't quite place the name.

"The little mousy one." Sinclair supplied, elbow propped on the chair arm and chin resting in his hand as he eavesdropped. "The pianist." He added when Fontaine still looked unsure.

"Ah, little Fitzy." Fontaine said, chuckling softly as a face clicked into place in his head beside the name. Fitzpatrick had always been the biggest push-over of all of Cohen's boys and he was surprised the kid had managed to resist what had to have been years of peer pressure to splice. "Can't believe you kept your cherry intact all this time."

"I was scared." Fitzpatrick muttered, barely loud enough for Fontaine to hear, and he couldn't help but laugh again. He'd started to think the kid actually had a spine after all if he was able to resist all that pressure, but now he could see it was just one fear eclipsing another.

"You can decide what to do with 'im, doll, I don't care either way. He ain't dangerous but he ain't that useful either." Fontaine said, leaning back a bit and stretching his legs out. "Unless of course you like people who cry when you choke 'em on your cock." He added, remembering at the last moment one thing Fitzpatrick was good for. One redeeming quality among a sea of mediocrity.

" _Franky!_ " Sinclair scolded, looking amused but shaking his head at Fontaine. "You're as crass as a drunk sailor."

Shrugging, Fontaine muted the radio and set it aside when Jack gave him a confirming "right" and a "thanks, Daddy". "Tell me I'm wrong." Fontaine challenged, raising an eyebrow at Sinclair. "You've heard the kid play, he wasn't no Mozart. I can't think'a anythin' else he was even remotely good at 'sides bein' a people pleasin' little bitch."

After a bit of thinking, Sinclair sighed and shook his head again. "While I can't very well disagree with you, Franky, that doesn't mean you have to go callin' the poor boy out like that."

Chuckling again, Fontaine pulled another radio over and started checking in on that team while Sinclair stretched out. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the older man got up and put together two quick drinks at the small bar in the corner of the office and took the one Sinclair offered him with a grateful nod. "If you run into a Big Daddy protectin' his Little Sister, you let him do what he was fuckin' built for. You try to help and one of your bullets hits the Daddy, you're gonna lose that fight, and if you don't, I'll kill ya myself for damagin' my merchandise. You understand me?" Fontaine growled into the radio, missing his old pre-Atlas crews everytime he had to clear up common sense shit like this.

"Gotcha, guv, gotcha, no need to get too ruffled." Darling replied, sounding slightly nervous.

"There better not be." Fontaine threatened, clicking the radio off and grabbing the next one. He couldn't help but smile a little even as he glared lightly when Sinclair chuckled fondly from his reclaimed chair.

"I never realized your business voice was so scary, Franky." Sinclair teased, sipping his drink as he watched Fontaine.

"It's gotta be to keep these idiots in line." Fontaine grumbled, clicking on the radio in his hand and sighing lightly as he was greeted by the sounds of explosions. "Candy. Report."

Laughing softly again, Sinclair shook his head and turned back to his paper. He didn't have the heart to tell Fontaine that if he weren't such a micro-managing hot-head, his teams would probably be less likely to ask him stupid questions. Damned if they did and damned if they didn't as it was now. Better to get yelled at than to end up fish food, after all. As far as Sinclair could recall, he hadn't always been that way, but he supposed having put so many years into the acquisition of this underwater hellhole had made Fontaine a bit more cautious. Sinclair knew **he** certainly wouldn't forgive any large blunders after so much work, after all, so perhaps Fontaine's micro-managing hot-headedness was at least somewhat founded.

When Fontaine clicked off the radio he was on and muttered "fuckin' nutjob" to himself, it reminded Sinclair of something and he held his hand out to keep Fontaine from grabbing a new radio. "Speakin'a nutjobs, Franky, we should probably have our dear Jackie deal with Lamb and her little flock sooner rather than later."

"Lamb?" Fontaine asked, raising an eyebrow at Sinclair. "As in Sophia Lamb?" When Sinclair nodded with a grim frown, Fontaine hummed and leaned back. "Huh. Think she's really dangerous enough to warrant sendin' Jack in 'stead of a few teams?"

"Weren't you watchin' when Jackie was dealin' with those Brute Splicers down in Pauper's Drop while he was lookin' for me?" Sinclair asked, his frown deepening.

"No. I couldn't get any'a the camera feeds to work and I wasn't in any mood to mess with 'em, so I let him fly solo for that one." Fontaine replied, frowning himself now. "What in the fuck is a Brute Splicer?"

"Imagine Jack but about three-hundred pounds heavier. Just as tall, though, and just as surprisin'ly fast. Maybe more-so now that I think about it." Sinclair replied, nodding as Fontaine's eye widened. "Far as I know, Lamb created an Adam cocktail that turns regular, run'a the mill Splicers into Brutes so they're pretty much exclusive to the areas she controls."

"And Jack fought one'a these?" Fontaine asked, several emotions warring for his attention at the moment. Pride at Jack, disappointment at missing the show, a familiar sort of grudging admiration towards Lamb.

"He fought two of 'em." Sinclair informed, smiling a little when pride finally won out over the emotions also warring for dominance on Fontaine's face. "Had a grand time doin' it too. I think he'd be just delighted to hear he's gettin' to go back over there and maybe get to do it some more."

"Alright, I'll add it to the list'a things to get done." Fontaine decided, pausing and nodding after a bit of thinking. "After I figure out how to get the camera feeds workin'. I ain't missin' that show a second time."

"To add a little extra intrigue for you, last I heard, Lamb was based in the old Futuristics buildin'." Sinclair added, setting down his empty cup and lighting up a cigarette while Fontaine's brow furrowed.

"Why?" Fontaine asked, frowning in confusion. Last **he'd** heard of his old headquarters, it'd been gutted and condemned after his "death". Surely there wasn't anything of interest left in there for the likes of Lamb.

"Easy access to Adam refineries s'far as I can tell." Sinclair replied, shrugging as Fontaine's confusion visibly multiplied. "I don't know any concrete details, just what little snippets I've heard, but I'm pretty sure she's doin' somethin' big down there and it's all hinged around pumpin' some poor soul they call the Daughter of the People full to burstin' with Adam."

"Huh." Fontaine hummed, leaning back in his chair. He supposed the whole "gutting" thing had been a lie or at least an overstatement. Then again, Adam refineries were big and pretty hard to move, so it wouldn't be that surprising if they were one of the few things Ryan couldn't get hauled over to his own labs. "Oughta be real interestin' for Jack, whatever the hell that ends up bein' about." Fontaine said, his expression softening into a lazy grin as he decided it didn't really matter what Ryan had done with Futuristics so long ago. All that really mattered now was getting Jack down there.

"Oughta." Sinclair agreed, smiling a bit himself. He was as sure as Fontaine was that whoever the "Daughter of the People" was, their boy could take her.

Shortly after they'd finished talking, the sound of an explosion coming from Jack's radio pulled Fontaine and Sinclair from the tasks they'd returned to. While his eyes searched the monitors, Fontaine wrapped up the team he was currently checking in on and then set the radio aside right as Sinclair pointed at the only monitor that didn't show a picture too coated in ice to be properly visible. Jack was currently straddling what was once probably a Splicer but was now no more than the mangled remnants of a body with a puddle of gore for a head.

"I'm assumin' that blast was our first disciple down." Fontaine said after pulling Jack's radio close, watching his kid visibly relax and unable to keep from smiling a bit.

"Two to go." Jack confirmed, his voice surprisingly hoarse. What with the explosion and how oddly tired Jack sounded, Fontaine realized what must've happened and his smile turned into a grin.

"Ah, ya did that explosion thing again, didn't you?" He asked, watching Jack slowly get off the corpse and look to the only camera in the small room he was in.

"Yeah." He replied, clearing his throat before continuing. "Can't you see me, Daddy?"

"The cameras are frozen. I can barely see anythin' through the ice and they can't move." Fontaine replied, not lying but deciding not to admit that he also hadn't been paying attention.

"Which is a cryin' shame since I was promised quite a show to get distracted by." Sinclair added, sounding pouty but smirking at Fontaine and shooting him a wink. He didn't exactly want to admit he also hadn't been paying attention after all, so it wouldn't hurt Jack to get a nice little half-truth. Sinclair grimaced, however, when Jack tried to laugh and ended up coughing instead.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, my shirt can't take much more fire. I'll probably be ditching it soon." Jack said, his voice sounding a little better despite his coughing fit. Then he was suddenly within view of a camera and being lit up by a spotlight and Sinclair raised an eyebrow at how messed up Jack's practically brand new tank-top already was.

"That does make me feel better, actually." Sinclair hummed, hiding his surprise and making Fontaine chuckle softly. Then, quite suddenly, Jack was in battle mode and Sinclair decided to be quiet, Fontaine deciding the same as he muted the radio again and set it aside.

"Kid goes through clothes like they're made'a paper." He mumbled, shaking his head but smiling fondly. "Especially shirts."

"Suppose that's the price one pays for havin' a reckless powerhouse on their side." Sinclair replied, tapping his pen on his thigh a bit. "Oughta see if we can find a tailor who can make him stuff that's a little harder to destroy."

"Eh. If he doesn't rip it up or burn it, it ends up too soaked in blood to ever really be clean again." Fontaine replied, motioning up at the monitors. Proving his point, Jack was covered in a heavy spattering of blood now from a Splicer he'd blown up while Sinclair hadn't been looking and was currently recovering from said explosion and shaking off the absolutely totaled remains of his shirt.

Laughing softly despite himself as Jack tore through the remaining Splicers around him, Sinclair nodded. "I see what you mean, Franky. Cheap but comfy it is." Fontaine hummed his agreement and both men were about to get back to work when a new voice made them pause, Fontaine with his fingers on a radio dial and Sinclair with his pen almost to the paper.

"I see you're admiring my kittens, sugar." The voice nagged Fontaine as familiar and he frowned in thought but didn't have time to wrack his brain before Sinclair shifted in his seat and pointed at one of the monitors with his pen hand.

"That sounds like that Cobb fella." Sinclair said, looking over at Fontaine and smiling a bit when he raised an eyebrow at him. "Record store owner, one of Cohen's boys, always sorta looked like he was one stray comment away from killin' everyone in his general vicinity."

"Oh! That one." Fontaine said, face lighting up in recognition before he grimaced. "Oh, that one." He mumbled, watching as Jack impaled a speaker, likely in retaliation for something that Cobb had said. "Yeesh."

"Yeesh indeed." Sinclair agreed, watching as Jack stopped a battle raging between a few Splicers by tearing them all apart with Telekinesis. "Y'know, for knowin' the city is yours now, he's still awful fond of doin' property damage." He mentioned, thinking of all the security cameras he'd seen Jack kill while the speaker he'd just destroyed was still fresh in his mind.

"Yeah." Fontaine hummed, giving Sinclair a shrug. "I figure it's better to just let 'im work however he wants than to try and make him be more careful. He always gets the job done, after all, even if he fucks up a few doors and electronics doin' it."

"Y'know, now that you mention it, I did notice he seems rather partial to rippin' doors right off their hinges rather than attemptin' to unlock 'em." Sinclair hummed, getting a laugh and a nod from Fontaine. "Well, you have a fair point anyway, I suppose." He conceded, shifting in his chair again and turning his attention back to the monitors showing Jack. "Ever give any thought to what you'll have him do once all the Splicers are dead and it's time to start rebuildin' this dump?" Sinclair asked curiously, watching Jack poke around the upstairs area of Sir Prize.

"Construction." Fontaine answered instantly, having indeed given it quite a bit of thought. "He's as strong as any machine I could have brought down here and a thousand times more useful cuz I can boss 'im around, so I figure I'll hand him over to the guy I'm gonna let take the lead on construction and let our little Jacky take a crack at fixin' 'stead'a breakin'."

Letting out an impressed sort of hum, Sinclair nodded. "Solid plan, Franky. Surprised you'd trust someone bossin' around your boy like that, though." He added, looking at Fontaine now and not liking one bit the sly grin on his face.

"I got a plan for that." Fontaine assured, both his and Sinclair's attention getting drawn back to the monitors as the sound of an explosion came through the radio. There were only two cameras in the establishment Jack was in. One showed the lower area, which was too full of smoke to really make anything out, and the other showed the main part of the store where a man stood waiting with a lit molotov in hand.

"Still alive down there, sugar?" Cobb shouted, waiting a bit for Jack to move into his line of sight before he carried on. "Oh good! That means my kittens still get to play with you!" He yelled, tossing his molotov at the ceiling and causing some grates to fall down. The smoke in the lower area had cleared up just enough that when some Splicers started to fall from the ceiling, Fontaine and Sinclair could see them. Jack almost immediately dove away from the Splicers and erected a barrier of ice around himself. He was a hair too late to miss getting coated in Splicer guts as one of them exploded, but he did manage to protect himself from the others.

The other Splicers popped in quick succession and Cobb started laughing. "What's wrong, sugar!? Don't you like my kittens anymore!?" He shouted, throwing another molotov at Jack the moment his ice barrier came down. Jack didn't respond, but Fontaine could tell he was annoyed by how hard he threw the molotov back at Cobb. Jack was really more of a tosser than a thrower unless he was serious or pissed. The molotov almost hit Cobb and he made the mistake of diving to the floor to escape the blast. Jack was there in no time and there was a loud crunch when he stepped on the Splicer's chest, causing him to start screaming.

Leaning forward a bit, Fontaine allowed himself a toothy grin as Jack simply stood there for a bit, letting Cobb suffer. Eventually Jack pressed down and his foot went through Cobb's chest, killing him instantly, and Fontaine chuckled softly. "That's my boy." He muttered, shaking his head as Jack took a moment to collect himself and then a deep breath before pressing on.

"He definitely inherited your love of makin' a mess to make a point." Sinclair said softly, looking away from Jack's blood-soaked form and deciding he needed another drink. He'd never been big on torture or any of the other more colorful ways one could get their way in the world; blood had always made him terribly squeamish, after all. Sinclair had always preferred bribery or blackmail if charm and mostly mutually beneficial deals couldn't do the trick.

"You have no idea." Fontaine replied, joining Sinclair at the bar and refilling his glass while Sinclair mixed himself something. As Fontaine leaned back against the bar and took a swallow of his drink, he noted Sinclair's slightly pursed lips and smiled despite himself. "Don't tell me you're still squeamish?" He asked, smiling more when Sinclair shot him a glare. "Really? After livin' through the fall of Rapture?"

"Not everyone can get their jollies from blood like you, Franky." Sinclair grumbled sipping his drink and frowning at it.

Smile softening from slightly mocking to almost sympathetic, Fontaine got a fresh glass and remade Sinclair's drink. He passed it over and took the old one from Sinclair's hand. "Guess not." He conceded, knocking back Sinclair's failed attempt in one large swallow and grimacing. "You used too much cinnamon rum."

"You know what?" Sinclair announced, turning to face Fontaine properly and putting a hand on his hip, the other moving to point at the younger man. "I have waited actual years for this, tell me how you got so damn good at mixin' drinks this instant."

Laughing, Fontaine put his hands up in surrender and started to open his mouth when Jack's voice interrupted him. "I found the team that was supposed to be clearing Frolic. I don't think there's any survivors." Holding up his index finger, Fontaine grabbed his glass and hurried back over to the desk. He quickly located Jack and whistled lowly at the carnage being displayed on the monitors before unmuting the radio.

"Eh, Connors was kind of a prick anyway." Fontaine said flippantly, taking another swallow of his drink and sinking back into his chair. He smiled when Jack laughed and glanced over when Sinclair returned to his chair, looking angry. Before he could give Sinclair more than a confused look, Jack was pulling his focus again.

"Yeah, I remember from when I rescued him." He said, a loud crunch following his statement as he jumped through a hole in the floor and landed on what appeared to be a charred corpse.

Forcing himself not to get distracted by how absolutely soaked in blood Jack was took considerable effort, but Fontaine managed it and muted the radio again before turning to Sinclair. "Ya look like you're gonna carve out my liver, Sin."

"This is delicious." Sinclair grumbled, pointing at his drink and sipping it while glaring at Fontaine.

Cracking up in a bout of loud laughter, Fontaine shook his head. "Before I became Frank Fontaine, smuggler and cut-throat businessman, I was Frank Gorland, bartender and general trouble-maker." He said once he'd calmed down a bit, flashing Sinclair a smile now that he wasn't glaring at him anymore.

"Oh, now there's gotta be a story behind that." Sinclair said, looking interested now instead of surly.

"A long one." Fontaine replied, polishing off his drink and setting his glass down. When that didn't look like it had deterred Sinclair any, Fontaine sighed softly and shared the story of how he'd become Fontaine for the first time in his life. Even Jack only knew the short version, but Sinclair got more or less every detail and hummed softly once the tale was over.

"I'd like to say I'm surprised, but honestly the knowledge that you'd kill a man and steal his identity just so you could weasel your way down here with the express intention of takin' Rapture from Ryan is _just_ about the level of petty dedication I've come to expect from you after knowin' you so long." Sinclair replied, rolling his eyes when Fontaine looked pleased.

"Petty as it may have been, I have no regrets." Fontaine said, spreading his arms out. "It all worked out, after all."

Laughing softly, Sinclair smiled at Fontaine. "I suppose it did." He admitted, looking up in time with Fontaine when a great clattering racket came from the radio.

The monitors showed a few different views of Jack inside an establishment both men instantly recognized as Eve's Garden; Fontaine because he'd been there more times than he could count for both business and pleasure and Sinclair because the Garden had always been a great place to pick up sexually frustrated, slightly inebriated, down-on-their-luck men that he could pay into doing all manner of blackmail-worthy things. Jack was currently on his back, which would explain the racket since his radio would've taken that fall with him, looking somewhat stunned before scrambling to get back to his feet.

"Looks like we might get to see an actual show this time around." Fontaine said, as Jack squared up with who he assumed was Cohen's final disciple. Taking the radio from the desk, he rolled closer to Sinclair and turned it up just in time to catch Jack and the Splicer's conversation.

"Guess you're the one who killed Cohen." Rodriguez slurred, Sinclair not being the only one to recognize the man this time around. Rodriguez had almost always been down in Eve's Garden whenever Fontaine had been there, after all, and he'd actually spoken with the almost constantly drunk man on a few occasions. "Old fucker had it comin'. 'Bout damn time someone gave 'im a taste of his own medichine."

"And I guess you're Cohen's final disciple." Jack replied, trying his damnedest to electrocute the surprisingly agile junkie who managed to keep _just_ out of Jack's sustained arc of electricity.

"Final?" Rodriguez asked, letting out a very drunk-sounding bark of laughter even as he kept moving. "Figures those other two pansies couldn't stand up to you." Without missing a beat, he flicked his fingers in Jack's direction again and both Fontaine and Sinclair hissed softly when Jack was launched via Cyclone Trap into some tables and chairs. "I was always the besht outta all'a us, the strongest. That's why Cohen liked me best."

No sooner had Jack stood up and those last words left Rodriguez's mouth than the fight was picking up again, Rodriguez suddenly rapid-firing blasts of Incinerate at Jack and Jack blocking them with shots of Winter Blast. Sinclair scooted a little closer to the monitors, his eyes fully focused on the action and Fontaine smiled, feeling oddly proud of Jack for the show he didn't even know he was putting on. When a fireball actually made contact with Jack, Sinclair gasped softly and Fontaine couldn't help but laugh softly. Sinclair shot him a frown and Fontaine shook his head.

"Wait for it." He said, sounding quite sure of his decision to not join Sinclair in feeling concerned for Jack. He felt even better about it when Jack laughed and Sinclair's attention snapped back to the monitors.

"You are pretty strong." Jack said, a grin plain in his voice. "But you're still nothing."

"Told ya." Fontaine muttered, grinning when Sinclair blindly reached over to smack his arm. Then Rodriguez started laughing and even Fontaine frowned in confusion.

"S’what I been tryin' to say! But the Splicers, they all got _real weird_ when Cohen died, y'know?" Rodriguez asked, sounding oddly overjoyed by Jack's assessment. "Like-like they needed someone to bosh 'em around or somethin'. S'weird." Jack started to reply, but then the sound of Splicers, numerous enough to be loud enough for their assorted sounds to filter through the radio and into Fontaine's office, interrupted him. "I told 'em to fuck off, but they jus' didn't listen." Rodriguez continued, grabbing a fresh bottle of alcohol to get into as Jack started getting swarmed. "So I told 'em then, I said "take over Cobb's terf, then" but they were shit at it. If they don't get this right, I dunno what I'll do with 'em."

The swarm on Jack seemed to grow frantic at those last words but even a frantic mob of Splicers wasn't any match for a dense blast of icicles. The blast managed to kill a camera in addition to thinning out the horde quite a bit, but there were still enough Splicers alive, if horribly maimed, to be making a terrible ruckus as Rodriguez looked around curiously, oddly untouched by the attack.

"Looks like they're shit at this too." Rodriguez said, almost too quiet for the radio to pick up over the wailing Splicers around the room. **"Shut up!"** He suddenly bellowed, making Sinclair jump and causing the heads of the Splicers nearest him to pop. For a moment, Jack and Rodriguez just stood there, looking at the carnage and then eachother. Then Jack crushed the remaining wailing Splicers with Telekinesis, his grin back.

"I can't believe I missed out on all this my first go around." Jack hummed, his arms quickly lighting up to his shoulders with Incinerate. "You would've been so good for my mood after dealing with Cohen." Fontaine could attest to that. Jack had been in a _foul_ mood during Frolic thanks to getting cut off from him. Not that Fontaine had had any reason to complain, not when Jack's bad mood had made it easy to convince him to kill Cohen in a way that was decidedly severely disproportionate to Cohen's actual wrong-doings.

Sinclair didn't notice Fontaine grinning at the memory as Rodriguez's whole body started to crackle with electricity and he sneered at Jack. "You're as sick as he was!" He shouted, trembling visibly even through the shitty cameras. "You have no idea the--"

Apparently not in the mood to listen to a monologue, Jack started firing at Rodriguez before he could finish that thought. "I don't care." He said loudly, keeping Rodriguez on the defensive as he slowly backed him into a corner of the room with only one camera to see from. "Whatever you're about to say, I. Don't. Care." Now that he was cornered, Rodriguez tried to attack Jack, but his attack tapered off before it could do more than make Jack shiver once. There was a pause and Rodriguez tried to attack again before clutching his hands to himself. Jack's laughter echoed Fontaine's soft chuckle. "Guess that's it for you."

Rodriguez lunged at Jack, but without Plasmids, he really wasn't any match for Jack's superior strength and speed. Jack swiveled out of the way before Rodriguez could make contact with him and punched the drunk man in the back of the head, making him go down. Much to everyone's surprise, Rodriguez groaned softly, dazed but clearly still alive. Jack let out a cold little laugh that gave Fontaine pleasant goosebumps as he walked up to the downed man.

"You were fun." Jack complimented, bringing his foot down on Rodriguez's head, Fontaine practically purring and Sinclair letting out a breath as the fight came to an end. Jack for his part, sighed in satisfaction and was getting ready to leave when something seemed to catch his eye. Fontaine was about to unmute the radio and say something, but Jack beat him to it. "Jasmine Jolene was a stripper, wasn't she?" He asked, looking at something on the stage that the cameras couldn't quite see thanks to the one being broken.

" _Technically _, she was just a dancer, she didn't do any actual strippin'." Fontaine replied, figuring it must've been one of those advertisements that got put up fucking **everywhere**. Like one of only three or so strip clubs in the whole city really needed to advertise itself that badly, but heaven forbid any one citizen in Rapture go their life without knowing that Eve's Garden hosted _Andrew Ryan's favorite gal_.__

__"Pretty miss Jolene didn't _have_ to since she was Ryan's second favorite side piece." Sinclair added, his voice somewhat mocking now that he wasn't on the edge of his seat watching a bloodbath and could afford some sass. "That man had awful taste."_ _

__"I'll have you know Cohen was Ryan's second favorite side piece." Fontaine corrected, frowning at Sinclair and laying on thick the mild offense he felt at being part of Ryan's awful taste. "Jolene came in third." When Sinclair looked at him, Fontaine broke into a grin and Sinclair narrowed his eyes._ _

__"Franky, I swear to the almighty above, if you--"_ _

__" **I** was his **favorite** side piece." Fontaine said, laughing as Sinclair rolled his eyes and sighed deeply at him._ _

__"That's gross, Daddy." Jack cut in after a soft laugh, a smile in his own voice despite his assertion._ _

__"Like you ain't had a piece." Fontaine muttered, realizing what he'd said too late and looking at Sinclair who was looking at him with a wide-eyed, shocked expression. "Oh shit."_ _

__"You made that poor boy do _what_!?" Sinclair shouted, standing as Fontaine rolled out of hitting range._ _

__"I didn't _make_ 'im do anythin'!" Fontaine replied defensively, putting his arm up to block a barrage of surprisingly hard hits from Sinclair. "Ow! Quit hittin' me!"_ _

__"It's true, Papa!" Jack suddenly shouted, making Fontaine raise his eyebrows in a "see?" expression at Sinclair. "I mean, Frank suggested it, but he didn't force me and I did enjoy myself a little." Sinclair glared at Fontaine for a moment before holding out his hand and taking the radio a few steps away so he could speak into it without Fontaine interrupting him when he handed it over._ _

__"You aren't just sayin' that to calm me down, are you, butterfly?" He asked quietly, frowning in concern for Jack. Sinclair knew how Fontaine could be and knowing that he could control Jack really called the whole situation into question. While he'd really only just met Jack, Sinclair was already fiercely protective of him._ _

__"No, I'm not." Jack assured, voice sincere enough to take some of Sinclair's edge off. "I really only enjoy it because Ryan hates it so much, but still, I have fun. Frank wouldn't force me to do something I really didn't want to do."_ _

__Sighing softly in relief, Sinclair shot Fontaine one last glare before returning his attention to the radio. "Alright, butterfly, so long--" Quite suddenly, something Jack said really registered for Sinclair and he slowly turned around to look at Fontaine, eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, maybe it was just my blood pressure makin' me hear things, but did you just use the present tense while talkin' to me about diddlin' your own biological father?" Sinclair asked calmly, staring Fontaine down the whole time._ _

__"Um, yes?" Jack replied quietly._ _

__"Ryan is still alive!?" Sinclair shouted, only just having enough presence of mind to move the radio away from his mouth so Jack wouldn't think he was yelling at him._ _

__"Ah, I knew I forgot to tell you somethin' important." Fontaine replied, a slight grin on his face before Sinclair started walking back over to him with what he was beginning to recognize was the intent to whack. "Augustus Sinclair, if you start hittin' me again, I'm gonna--" Fontaine started seriously before Sinclair reached him and started to do just that. Finally having enough, Fontaine suddenly lunged at Sinclair and tackled him to the ground, knocking the radio from his hand in the process and immediately going for Sinclair's neck. Sinclair shouted in surprise when he was tackled, but then he let out a gasp as Fontaine gave him a teasing bite on the neck._ _

__Then Fontaine bit him hard enough to draw blood and Sinclair cried out in pleasure-pain, his hands going for Fontaine's hair. Fontaine was having none of that after all of Sinclair's antics, though, and caught both of his wrists in one hand to hold them over his head so he could keep working on his neck. "Fr-Franky, that-- oh my lord." Sinclair tried, his complaint of Fontaine's cheating due to his large hands being cut off as Fontaine bit him in a different, more sensitive spot._ _

__"I warned you." Fontaine breathed in Sinclair's ear, nipping the shell before moving back down to his neck. When he felt Sinclair opening his mouth to respond, he moved up to bite the older man's lower lip, keeping eye-contact with him as he pulled it back a bit and then bit down harder, drawing blood. Sinclair's eyes widened at the bright burst of pain and he moaned wordlessly before his eyes drifted to half-lidded and he tentatively poked his tongue out to try goading Fontaine into a kiss. It was too late to realize he'd made a mistake before Fontaine had his tongue caught between his teeth and was drawing blood from it like he'd done his lip._ _

__Squirming, Sinclair half-moaned, half-whined and Fontaine let his tongue go. "Not playin' around, huh, Franky?" He breathed, tasting his own blood on his tongue and grimacing a bit at the coppery tang._ _

__"Seems like ya forgot that I only pretend to be all nice n' shit." Fontaine replied, licking the blood from his teeth and growling low in his throat mostly because he knew it would make Sinclair shiver. "Seems like ya forgot that when you're pushin' my buttons, what you're really doin' is pokin' a bear." Sinclair opened his mouth again but Fontaine wasn't quite finished and expressed as much by releasing Sinclair's wrists to literally rip his shirt open, sending buttons flying all over the office and making the older man gasp. "Eventually the bear's gonna bite." He growled, holding Sinclair's wrists again and moving down to bite the area just around his nipple hard enough to draw more blood._ _

__Face flushed in arousal despite himself, Sinclair cried out at the new bite and whined loudly when Fontaine pulled, stretching his skin and making his back arch to try and relieve some of the tension. Just when the pain was on the verge of tipping into too much, Fontaine released him and his tongue went to the nipple of his abused breast, licking it in slow, luxurious circles and soothing some of the sting of the bite. Sinclair was past words now, his head falling back to thunk lightly against the hardwood floor and his legs open in a silent plea for some friction against his erection._ _

__"Ya missed this, didn't you?" Fontaine whispered, moving so he was between Sinclair's legs and answering his silent plea with a slow downward grind. "You missed the animal under the suit."_ _

__"Yeah." Sinclair breathed, whining when Fontaine bit his other breast and pulled like the other one. Between the hips now pinning down his lower half with languid gyrations and the strong hands holding his wrists down, Sinclair couldn't arch very far and everything was becoming too much quicker than before, but Fontaine seemed to be able to read him just as well as ever and released him just before tipping him over that edge. Then Fontaine's sinful tongue was on his nipple again, licking away the pain like he'd done for the other one and Sinclair couldn't bring himself to regret breaking Fontaine's patience._ _

__Pulling away from Sinclair's nipple again after it was just as red and puffy as the other one, Fontaine took a moment to admire his handiwork. Sinclair was flushed and panting, a thin sheen of sweat covering his exposed skin. His hair was a mess and he was covered in bruises and bloody bitemarks, a wet patch forming on the front of his pants where his erection strained against the silk. Fontaine couldn't remember a time when he'd looked more appealing than right then. Not even thigh-highs and a corset could compare to bruises and blood._ _

__Smirking when Sinclair made a questioning sound and cracked his eyes open to look up at him, Fontaine leaned down and caught the older man's lips in a deep kiss. Sinclair made a pleased sound low in his throat and returned the kiss eagerly, his hips moving in time with the slow pace Fontaine was still keeping up. Releasing Sinclair's wrists, Fontaine pushed his ruined shirt up and quickly tangled it up with Sinclair's wrists trapped in the sleeves before he could shake it off. He then broke the kiss and smirked at Sinclair again, the older man looking up in annoyance when his shirt wouldn't come off and his eyes widening when he realized what Fontaine had done._ _

__"That's a damn dirty trick, Franky." Sinclair said, glaring at Fontaine when he looked back to the younger man. Fontaine met his glare with an honest-to-god _snarl_ and Sinclair's hips stuttered while his heart leapt. When Sinclair realized Fontaine's hands were now free, it was because the younger man's nails were raking down his sides hard enough to leave welts and making his back arch again. "Lord have mercy." He gasped, pressing his bound hands to Fontaine's chest but forgetting all about his intention to try and push him away when Fontaine lifted his hips via a bruising grip on his ass and really pressed their erections together. The pressure was painful but Sinclair's legs immediately came to wrap around Fontaine's hips as his head fell back again. It was good that he'd put his glasses away long ago, because he probably would've knocked them loose long ago by now with how many times he'd smacked his head against the floor._ _

__"Looks like your lord's fresh outta mercy." Fontaine taunted lowly, lowering himself so Sinclair's hands were trapped between their chests. "Suppose ya could try prayin' to me instead." He suggested, smirking when Sinclair opened his mouth to respond only to make a breathless, desperate sound as Fontaine ground their hips together harshly again._ _

__"Alright!" Sinclair cried, panting and trying to squirm away from the fingers leaving bruises in his asscheeks. "I'm sorry, Franky, please." He whined, letting out a shaky breath when Fontaine loosened his grip and lessened the pressure he was grinding against him with._ _

__"Sorry for what?" Fontaine prompted, moving back a bit so he could watch Sinclair's expression and allowing his hands some space in the process._ _

__"I'm sorry for pokin' the bear." Sinclair replied, struggling lightly with the shirt still holding his hands and whimpering softly when Fontaine growled low and menacing at him. "C'mon, Franky, I just wanna touch you." He said, looking at Fontaine pleadingly and feeling his heart jump again at how dark Fontaine's eyes were. "Please?" He added softly, stroking his bound hands up and down Fontaine's chest a bit._ _

__Glancing down at Sinclair's hands, Fontaine huffed softly and set his hips down so he could untangle his hands from the fabric by ripping the shirt apart. As much as he wanted to, Sinclair didn't dare complain and simply went to unbuttoning Fontaine's shirt and pushing it aside enough for him to run his nails slowly down his chest. Fontaine practically purred at the slight sting and his hips started to move again, setting up a faster but gentler pace._ _

__As both men got closer and closer to going off in their pants, Sinclair's scratching got harder, eventually drawing blood, and Fontaine's bites became more frequent. By the time they were both shuddering and making a proper mess of themselves, both Fontaine and Sinclair were bloody and looked more like they'd gotten into a fight with an angry animal than just had a romp. Fontaine rolled off of Sinclair after he'd caught his breath a bit and sighed softly as his shirt and the hardwood under it aggravated the bleeding scratches on his back. Sinclair rolled over and draped an arm around Fontaine and Fontaine happily maneuvered his arm under the older man to pull him closer._ _

__After a few minutes of resting, Sinclair looked up to see Fontaine's eyes were closed and he tapped a part of his chest that wasn't too scratched up gently to see if he was still awake. Fontaine cracked an eye open to look at him and gave a questioning hum when he saw Sinclair looking at him. "Earlier when we were discussin' Jack, you mentioned havin' a plan for lettin' him get bossed around." Sinclair said, propping himself up a bit to look at Fontaine properly. "Is it the sorta plan I get to be in on now that we're partners an' all that?"_ _

__Smiling, Fontaine nodded and sat up. "It is, but it's a surprise for Jack, so you gotta promise me you won't breathe a word of it to him. Not even about the whole construction thing." He said, looking at Sinclair as he also sat up._ _

__"You have my word, Franky." Sinclair promised, smiling at how cute it was that Fontaine wanted to surprise Jack. Sometimes he worried a bit about Jack and Fontaine's relationship, but little things like that went a surprisingly long way in easing his mind._ _

__Nodding, Fontaine got up and retrieved the radio from where it had landed a ways away from them. He could hear Jack and Fitzpatrick chatting, so he felt pretty confident that Jack hadn't heard any of their discussion so far. Just in case, Fontaine still muted the radio and then walked back over to Sinclair, holding a hand out to the older man and helping him up easily. "It might be easier to explain the surprise if I show it to you first." He said, taking Sinclair's robe from the chair he'd been sitting on and holding it out to him._ _

__"Oh?" Sinclair asked curiously, slipping into his robe and closing it up. "Well, lead the way then, I suppose." He said, even more curious now and following Fontaine out of his office and into a small lab. Sinclair stood back and watched as Fontaine held his thumb against a small screen on the wall and his eyes widened when a panel of the wall flipped to reveal a tank of yellowish liquid with a figure floating in it. The figure had blonde hair, a toned body, and a very familiar face. "Is that--?" Sinclair started, dragging his eyes from the figure to Fontaine._ _

__"An Adam clone of yours truly." Fontaine said, sounding proud. "I had him commissioned not too long after I started experimentin' with what Adam could really do. I always sorta planned on tryin' to transfer my mind into him or somethin'." He explained, looking from Sinclair's surprised, confused expression to his clone. "Well, I recently decided that was crazy and instead I been tweakin' him in my spare-time to be the world's most perfect engineer through mind implants." Fontaine looked to Sinclair again, looking quite proud. "I figured since I was doin' that anyway, I might as well implant a sorta copy of the "Atlas" persona into him and now he's almost finished."_ _

__Eyes flitting between the clone and Fontaine a few times, Sinclair nodded slowly. "Wow." He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and wishing suddenly that he had a cigarette. "That's-- some plan, Franky."_ _

__"It's a good plan, you'll see." Fontaine assured, pressing the button again and watching the clone disappear behind the wall again. "Even if the personality doesn't take, which would be a fuckin' shame, I'll still have the world's greatest engineer to help me rebuild Rapture. To last this time." He added, fishing around in his pockets and frowning when he realized he didn't have any cigarettes on his person. "And when the personality does take, Jack'll actually _wanna_ spend time with and listen to the man givin' him orders all day."_ _

__Humming softly and following Fontaine out of the lab, Sinclair mulled it over a bit more and nodded again. "Yeah." He agreed, finding his own cigarettes as they returned to the office and lighting one up. "Weird as it is to just have a clone of yourself lyin' around, I can see your logic, Franky. If it all works out, it's a damn good plan."_ _

__After lighting up a cigar and taking a deep drag, Fontaine opened his mouth to tell Sinclair he already knew it was a good plan, but he was cut off by the sharp trill of his security system letting him know someone was using the elevator. He looked to the monitors and saw Jack returning with none other than Fitzpatrick accompanying him and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like our kid brought home a stray."_ _

__"Looks like." Sinclair agreed, tilting his head slightly. "Wonder why."_ _

__"Guess we'll hafta ask him." Fontaine hummed, running his fingers through his hair to get it somewhat presentable but deciding to just leave his shirt open._ _

__"You do that, I'm gonna go clean these bites before I get an infection from your foul mouth." Sinclair said playfully, smiling when Fontaine laughed and leaving the office to do just that._ _

__Deciding to meet Jack halfway, Fontaine stretched out and then left the office as well, walking to the landing of the stairs and smiling when Jack appeared. He opened his arms despite knowing what Jack looked like and Jack was hugging him in an instant, Fontaine only getting a glimpse of the way his face lit up before it was buried in his neck. "Didja have fun on your mission, doll?" Fontaine asked, resisting the urge to hiss softly when Jack squeezed him, his grip aggravating the scratches on his back._ _

__"I did, Daddy." Jack replied, pulling back to smile at Fontaine. His gaze was instantly drawn to the older man's open shirt and his eyes widened at the bloody scratches littering his chest that he could _just_ see under the blood and char he'd transferred to Fontaine from hugging him. "I see you and Augustus had fun too." He teased, looking around a bit and frowning softly. "Where is Augustus?"_ _

__"He's cleanin' up." Fontaine replied, motioning at the bedroom with his head. "You should probably do the same. You're a mess, doll." Despite his assertion, Fontaine sounded appreciative and he grinned when Jack smiled shyly._ _

__"Yeah, I-- oh! I almost forgot, I decided to bring Fitzpatrick with me!" He said, carrying on before Fontaine could say anything. "He seems nice and I thought maybe we could use him as a maid or something. We talked about it on the ride over and he said he'd like that better than being on a team doing dangerous stuff."_ _

__"That ain't a bad idea." Fontaine hummed, heading towards the bedroom. "If you really think we can trust him."_ _

__"He seems harmless, like you said." Jack replied, following Fontaine and starting to strip off his belt on the way. "I don't think he'd do anything to you or Augustus since there's nowhere for him to go and he's terrified of me. Plus there's no reason for him to want to do anything." He set his belt and backpack on a table as they entered the bedroom and started to undo his pants. "I think he just wants to be safe and if being safe comes with getting told he's doing a good job every now and again, I think he'll be loyal."_ _

__"Alright. I'll trust your judgment, doll." Fontaine said, watching Jack peel off his bloody clothes but looking over with him when Sinclair left the bathroom. "Good news, Sin. Jack hired us a maid."_ _

__"Oh, that's nice. Lord knows you're not one for doin' your own housework, after all." Sinclair said, using a finger to keep Jack from hugging him and instead pecking his lips in greeting. "Thanks to your Daddy, I'm covered in open wounds, butterfly. No hugs until **you** aren't covered in Splicer."_ _

__"Fair." Jack mumbled, pouting despite himself and looking down at Sinclair's exposed neck. His eyes widened at the angry red and blue marks and he looked at Sinclair when he laughed at his reaction._ _

__"It looks worse than it is." He assured, kissing Jack a little longer and then looking around him to shake a bottle of alcohol at Fontaine. "You need to let me clean those scratches." Fontaine rolled his eyes but sat on the bed and took his shirt off obediently. "And you need a shower." Sinclair continued, looking to Jack again and swatting him on the ass lightly with his free hand when Jack gave him a soft "yes, Papa" and moved around him to go to the bathroom. Jack giggled at the swat and Sinclair smiled before kneeling on the bed to deal with Fontaine._ _

__Once Sinclair was finished disinfecting his scratches and cleaning him off, Fontaine popped into the bathroom to let Jack know he and Sinclair were heading downstairs. After getting a confirmation, he quickly changed out of his soiled slacks and put on a shirt while Sinclair got dressed in something casual that wasn't pajamas. Once they were both presentable, Fontaine and Sinclair headed downstairs to greet their future maid in person._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention when posting this bitch that Fontaine getting to be all bitey in this chapter is partially thanks to Booker_DeShit who thought it'd be nice for Fontaine to get Sinclair back for chapter 17.
> 
> Requests and ideas always appreciated! I almost always find a way to recycle an idea into something usable even if I don't really use the original idea exactly as it was presented.
> 
> The more characters I add, the more convoluted the plot becomes, but I'm having fun, so fuck it! I miss Atlas so now you all get to suffer 👍


	20. Relaxation in Rapture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack, Fontaine, and Sinclair have a chill day of relaxing to celebrate Jack's job well done over in Fort Frolic and to prepare for his coming mission to deal with Lamb. Things escalate from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Augustus Sinclair, Frank Fontaine, Kyle Fitzpatrick, Jack
> 
> Relationships: Fontaine/Jack/Sinclair
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Size Kink, Size Difference, Breeding Kink, Sadism, Masochism, Praise Kink, Begging, Double Penetration, Feminization, Dirty Talk, Biting, Marking, Anal Sex, Face-Slapping, Orgasm Delay, Scratching, Hair-Pulling, Unsafe Sex, Idolatry, Tattoos, Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Drinking, God Complex

When Sinclair and Fontaine entered the downstairs lounge, they found Fitzpatrick fidgeting nervously on one of the couches. He looked up when he heard footsteps and stood as Sinclair entered the room, likely with the intention of greeting his possible future employer with a handshake. Then he saw Fontaine and frowned in obvious confusion, his mouth parted slightly in an unspoken greeting.

"Been awhile, ain't it, Fitzy?" Fontaine greeted, grinning when Fitzpatrick's confusion turned to surprise. "Good t'see ya again."

"Oh my god, Rodriguez was right." Fitzpatrick whispered, covering his mouth when both men looked confused. "No-- I-- Sorry, that-that wasn't supposed to--"

"No, no, what was that?" Fontaine cut off, coming closer and trying not to look too pleased when Fitzpatrick shrank away from him. God, but it felt fucking good to be around someone who remembered he was a man to be feared and actually had a reason to fear him.

"I-- Just that--" Fitzpatrick stumbled out, pausing to take a breath and glancing at Sinclair when he stopped at Fontaine's shoulder, looking curious. "Rodriguez had this wild theory that-- well, that you and Atlas were the same person." He explained, finishing the last part much quieter and shrinking into himself a bit. "Because of the timing and because of some of the mannerisms he-- well, **you** had. None of us believed him, though, cuz he was always drunk. But I-- well, I guess it wasn't such a wild theory."

Snorting a bit, Fontaine started laughing and Sinclair stepped forward to take over, a pleasant smile covering up any real emotions he may or not be feeling. "As amusin' as all that is, let's get down to business. Jack informed us that you're interested in workin' for us."

Straightening up a bit now that he was dealing with the considerably less intimidating of the two men, Fitzpatrick nodded. "Yes, sir. I-- would prefer not to do anything dangerous if-if it's all the same." He added, shifting a bit and looking uncertain. Fontaine had tapered off into soft snickering and then calmed down fully but now he was watching Fitzpatrick and that didn't help with the younger man's nerves.

"Oh, I'm sure you would, sport." Sinclair replied, upping the charm level on his smile and feeling a fair amount of pride at how much it made Fitzpatrick relax. He still had it even after all this time. "Did you have somethin' particular in mind? Any strengths you can play to?" While Sinclair knew Fontaine had said Fitzpatrick would be their maid, he figured it would be better to give Fitzpatrick the option to suggest something else. Give him some control to minimize potential bitterness.

"I sorta mentioned to Jack that I-- I really like doing housework." Fitzpatrick admitted, smiling in embarrassment but not shrinking since Sinclair's face stayed perfectly polite. "I'm pretty good at cooking too." He added, clearly emboldened by Sinclair's lack of judgment. He'd been picked on by the other disciples and by Cohen himself for his enjoyment of "lower-class work", after all, but he was an anxious man and keeping busy with things that could give immediate tangible results, like washing a dish, made him feel calm and happy like few other things did.

"Well, I think cookin' and cleanin' sounds just dandy!" Sinclair said cheerfully, looking to Fontaine and flashing Fitzpatrick a dashing smile when Fontaine nodded in approval. "We'll get you a pretty little maid dress and put you to work right away." He added, grinning playfully when Fitzpatrick flushed. "Just teasin', sport. No frilly skirt required."

"I mean--" Fitzpatrick started, stopping himself but seeming to regain his confidence when both Fontaine and Sinclair looked curious. "I wouldn't be opposed." He mumbled, turning even redder and looking away in time to miss the grin Sinclair and Fontaine exchanged. Then Sinclair's arm was around his shoulders and Fitzpatrick jumped lightly in surprise.

"You're gonna work out swell, son." Sinclair hummed, grinning at Fitzpatrick and starting to lead him away. "We'll get a proper list'a duties written out for you with some general rules to follow and _then_ we'll get you sized."

"A-alright." Fitzpatrick mumbled, half-smiling nervously at Jack when he came down the stairs and raised an eyebrow at him. Unbeknownst to Fitzpatrick, Sinclair pointed at him and gave Jack a rather enthusiastic thumb's up. The only indication he had that an interaction had happened was Jack's glancing over at Sinclair and coming away grinning happily. When he looked at Sinclair questioningly, Sinclair gave him a reassuring smile.

"Mr. Fitzpatrick and I were just headin' up to Frank's office to get some paperwork drawn up." Sinclair informed, looking at Jack and giving Fitzpatrick a light squeeze before letting him go.

"You're sticking around, then?" Jack asked, smiling at Fitzpatrick.

Much less intimidated by Jack now that he wasn't soaked in blood or a few seconds away from shooting him with a Plasmid, Fitzpatrick managed an actual, if small, smile and nodded. "Mr. Fontaine and Mr. Sinclair liked the whole maid idea."

"That's great!" Jack replied happily, noticing Fontaine leaning against the entryway to the lounge out of the corner of his eye and glancing his way. Fontaine beckoned him over and Jack smiled at Fitzpatrick and Sinclair. "Gotta go." He excused, coming around to peck Sinclair's lips quickly and waving briefly at Fitzpatrick, who returned the gesture, if a bit more shyly, before hurrying over to Fontaine and allowing the two other men to continue on to Fontaine's office.

Smirking at Jack as he came over, Fontaine coiled his arms around the larger man's hips and pulled him in for a kiss. Jack returned it happily, draping his arms loosely around Fontaine's neck, but the older man kept the kiss short. "I got another mission lined up for you, but I got some shit to get sorted out before I send you off, so you're gonna get some down-time." Fontaine informed, switching their position and pressing Jack against the doorframe.

"What's the mission?" Jack asked curiously, smiling lovingly at Fontaine and blushing a bit at the position they were in. He didn't think he'd ever _really_ get used to the attention Fontaine gave him no matter how much he got, not when it always felt like he was receiving attention from his own personal god.

"You're gonna head over to the old Fontaine Futuristics buildin' and clear out Lamb and her little followin'." Fontaine replied, admiring how tightly the sleeved undershirt Jack was wearing fit him. The material was of the slightly stretchy variety and since Jack was so damn big, it was stretched out enough that it looked like it had been painted on. "But first I need to see if I can expand the radio signal that far out and figure out why the hell the cameras wouldn't work for me."

"I get to see your old building?" Jack asked interestedly, smiling when Fontaine chuckled and smiled up at him.

"Whatever the hell is left of it." He confirmed, tilting his head slightly and reaching up to brush his fingers against Jack's throat. He tried not to get too distracted by how Jack tilted his head back invitingly at the gesture. "'Member when ya mentioned lettin' me tattoo my name on you?" Fontaine asked, meeting Jack's eyes when he tilted his head back down to look at him.

"Of course, Daddy." Jack replied, eyes suddenly lighting up. "Are we gonna do that?" He asked excitedly, not waiting for a reply before carrying on. "Because I actually have an idea for the design if we are."

"Oh yeah?" Fontaine asked, tone decidedly amused. "Lay it on me, doll."

"I was thinking another chain. To match my wrists." Jack replied, removing his arms from Fontaine's shoulders to brush his fingertips over the chains on his left wrist. "A chain going all the way around my neck with a little tag in the middle, where everyone can see it, with your name on it." He finished, practically beaming at Fontaine's pleased expression. "I was also thinking of getting Augustus' name tattooed on a little tag on one of my wrists." Jack added, looking slightly uncertain at that part. He knew Fontaine was okay with sharing him with Sinclair, obviously, but he wasn't sure if that was a step too far. The way Fontaine's eyes lit up after a moment of pondering the idea was definitely a relief.

"That's a grand idea, doll." Fontaine said, voice oddly quiet, almost thoughtful. "And then-- oh, that'll work out just perfect." He said, even quieter, eyes no longer focused on Jack until he made a confused sound.

"What will, Daddy?" He asked, a confused frown playing his face.

"You'll see." Fontaine replied, grinning broadly and leaning up briefly to peck Jack's lips. "It's a surprise for your birthday."

Blinking once slowly, Jack took a moment to process that and then nodded equally slowly. "Right. Birthdays are usually celebrated." He said quietly, realizing he was acting weird when he looked at Fontaine's raised eyebrow and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. I sort of forgot birthdays were a thing." Jack mumbled, going back to actually smiling again quickly. "It'll be amazing spending my first celebration with you and Augustus."

Laughing softly and shaking his head, Fontaine smiled at Jack. "Guess it makes sense Suchong and Tenenbaum wouldn'ta given ya a party or anythin' since you were just a weapon way back when." He said, brushing his hand lovingly along Jack's cheek and keeping it there when Jack leaned into the touch. "Once Sinclair and Fitzy are done in the office, I'll radio around and see if any'a the teams've come across a tattoo tool."

An hour or so later, Fontaine was kneeling on Jack's lap, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and a tattoo tool buzzing away in his hand. He was just about finished with the right side of Jack's neck, the chains of his new collar reaching all the way back until his hair got in the way and then a little further so it looked like the chains disappeared behind his hair and kept going. Fontaine liked Jack's hair and he knew Jack liked having it pulled, so he wasn't worried about him wanting it cut and ruining the illusion.

For his part, Jack was holding perfectly still, his hands wrapped gently around Fontaine's hips to help keep him steady and his head tilted back to allow Fontaine plenty of room to work. He was ecstatic for his new inky additions to be completed, especially since Sinclair had liked the idea of Jack putting his name on himself as well, but he knew he needed to keep as still as possible so Fontaine wouldn't mess up. Luckily the older man's weight on his thighs was comforting rather than uncomfortable, so Jack found it easy to keep from wiggling or shifting until Fontaine pulled the tool away and made him tilt his head in the other direction to start on his left side.

Just to show Jack exactly what he was getting into, Fontaine had done the tag on his wrist before starting on his neck. It had hurt quite a bit and Fontaine had explained it was because that particular tool used multiple needles to make the process go faster unlike surface or beginner level Rapture tools that only used one. Still, Jack had agreed to keep using that tool and endure the pain rather than have the process take several more hours than it needed to. He could handle it and the little murmurs of praise Fontaine slipped him every now and again definitely helped keep his resolve nice and firm.

When Fontaine was about halfway through with the left side, the radio in Sinclair's lap gave a high beep and he lifted it to his lips. "Your primary boss is a tad busy at the moment, what can _I_ do you for?" He asked pleasantly, still watching Fontaine work even as he spoke into the radio. Fontaine had told his teams earlier that they were to consider Sinclair their second boss. Anything Sinclair told them was an order to be followed unless Fontaine himself contradicted it. It certainly felt good to know Fontaine trusted him enough to let him give his people orders even if he didn't plan on abusing the privilege all that often.

"Oh, uh, yeah, we found something, but I don't think--"

"Don't think." Fontaine said loudly from Jack's lap, ceasing Summers' meandering before it could even get going. "Spit it out."

"Right. Sorry, boss." Summers said, moving on quickly. "We, uh, we found a bottle of-- something. It's warm like Adam, but it doesn't look like a Plasmid or anything. It was in a safe that was pretty hard to crack in _Dr. Suchong's Free Clinic_ and it was all by itself. It's labeled _lot one-ninety-two_." Fontaine instantly stopped what he was doing and had to pull the tool away from Jack's neck when she said that. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Yeah." Fontaine replied, too quietly, but then loud enough for Summers to actually hear him. "Yeah. Turn the radio up and get your whole team together." He ordered, getting back to work on Jack's chain now that the shock had worn off and ignoring the curious expressions he could feel Sinclair and Jack giving him.

"Alright. We're all here." Summers said after a bit of shuffling and some yelling at her team to gather up.

"Listen real close, the lotta you." Fontaine started, motioning for Sinclair to come closer and speaking nice and loud. "The liquid in that bottle is worth more than all'a your lives combined which I will make slowly and painfully clear if it gets spilled." He carried on, making sure to sound as serious as possible to really get his point across. "Decide which one'a you is the best shot and which one has the steadiest hands and you two need to get that bottle to me _intact_. Tell me you understand."

There was a chorus of "understood" and Fontaine motioned for Sinclair to cut the feed, which he did. "What on _Earth_ was that all about, Franky?" Sinclair asked, staring at Fontaine in mixed confusion and suspicion.

" _That_ was somethin' I forgot about." Fontaine said, moving Jack's hair aside to complete the final two links of the chain. "See, I knew Jack could potentially be used against me if the right person got ahold of his trigger phrase, so I had a few failsafes built into him and a few external ones made in case those ones didn't pan out." He started, pulling away from Jack's neck now that the chain was complete and looking at Sinclair. "The one Summers just found is the first half of a special cocktail that'll erase all of Jack's Adam-enhanced conditionin'. The traditional stuff'd still be in there, but that wouldn't be nearly enough to control him reliably let alone completely."

Sinclair's eyes widened in surprise and Fontaine looked at Jack, who was frowning in a way that looked a mix of confused and bothered. "Once upon a time, I'd'a done everythin' in my power to keep those bottles outta your hands, but our relationship ain't what I always figured it'd be." He continued, having set the tattoo tool aside and cupping Jack's face in both hands. "I trust ya with my life, doll, and I wanna give you the option to erase your conditionin'."

Eyes going as wide as Sinclair's, Jack opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. He wasn't sure what to say. Fontaine didn't look like he was in any hurry, though, and just kept watching Jack's expression as he thought about what he'd just been told. "You-you wouldn't be able to control me anymore?" He asked quietly, shifting a bit now that he could and flexing the hold he had on Fontaine's hips.

"Nope. If I ever wanted you to do somethin' you weren't a hundred percent on, I'd have to resort to the old-fashioned ways of convincin' you." Fontaine replied, even knowing that he hadn't used Jack's trigger phrase on him outside of sex or testing since he'd asked Jack not to kill him and that he likely wouldn't need to. Unless Jack was the world's greatest actor, Fontaine was pretty sure he enjoyed taking orders and genuinely loved him enough that even without the conditioning, he'd do just about anything asked of him. Fontaine had even secretly erased the order not to kill him on one of the days they'd been changing all of Jack's triggers and it hadn't changed anything in his behaviour, so he felt pretty certain that Jack just adored him too much to hurt him. Well, hurt him more than he wanted to be hurt at any given moment, anyway.

"Wow." Sinclair breathed, recognizing how much trust Fontaine was putting in Jack and looking to Jack curiously. He was frowning even more severely now, looking more bothered than anything.

"I-I appreciate the gesture, Daddy, I do, really." Jack said, swallowing nervously and looking down. "But I don't want it." He whispered, glancing up at Fontaine through his eyelashes. "I like that you can control me." As much as Jack wanted Fontaine to understand, he really, _really_ didn't want to explain _why_ he liked knowing Fontaine could control him. It was a balance for one, a way Fontaine could always know he was safe despite Jack's raw power and he wanted Fontaine to have that even if he was okay with giving it up.

On a more selfish note, it really helped to complete the whole image Jack had of Fontaine. The god-among-men who'd given so much to bring him into existence and who, with a few simple words, could control every aspect of his being. He adored that, just the idea of it was enough. He wanted as much to lose that as he wanted to say it out loud. When Fontaine tightened his grip and forced Jack to look at him properly, Jack swallowed softly. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I--"

"Hey." Fontaine interrupted firmly, frowning a bit at Jack before softening his expression and even offering him a soft smile. "It was a choice for a reason, baby doll, you don't gotta be sorry." He assured gently, Jack instantly melting at the nickname and hugging him tightly, his face buried in Fontaine's neck in an instant. "You're so dumb." Fontaine murmured fondly, kissing Jack's head lovingly. "Thinkin' I'd be mad after givin' you a choice. I reserve that kinda fuckery for Ryan."

Giggling softly, Jack nuzzled Fontaine's neck affectionately before pulling away with a shy smile. "It's just, after you threatened your team and all that," He said, glancing away again. "I didn't wanna seem ungrateful."

"I woulda threatened 'em even if I wasn't plannin' on givin' you the choice to be free." Fontaine assured, smirking at Jack. "You might want it someday even if you don't want it now and it took weeks to make on top'a that, not to mention the price I paid. You know how I am about takin' care'a things I paid good money for." He finished, adding a playful note to his voice on the last part and brushing his hand against the slightly red skin of Jack's neck. Thanks to the Adam Fontaine had mixed with the tattoo ink, the chains were already healed and set, the skin just a little aggravated still from the multiple needle jabs.

Laughing again, Jack smiled wider and nodded. "I do." He said happily, sighing softly as his mind was set at ease. He hadn't even had to explain himself. It wasn't that Jack had any delusions about Fontaine not knowing what he thought of him, he just wasn't sure Fontaine understood how deeply and sincerely Jack thought those things. He wasn't sure if Fontaine would still be so into it if he realized it wasn't just a cute comment here and there and was actually closer to a full-blown religious obsession.

"So," Fontaine started, leaning close to Jack's ear and lowering his voice to a whisper. "since you wanna keep your trigger phrase, do you also wanna share it with Augustus?" He asked, pulling back to gauge Jack's reaction and smiling when Jack looked surprised before also smiling and giving him a nod. Chuckling softly, Fontaine looked to Sinclair, who was watching their exchange with a small smile. "Me an' Jack have decided to fully and officially induct you into our marriage." He announced, not noticing the way Jack's eyes widened but grinning when Sinclair had a similar reaction.

Then Sinclair's eyes narrowed and he frowned at Fontaine. "First of all, you have not made it official with that boy and you can't convince me otherwise." He started, holding his index finger up when Fontaine looked offended and opened his mouth. "Second of all, and more importantly, I was under the impression that I was already officially inducted!" Sinclair finished angrily, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting at Fontaine.

Forgetting all about his offense, Fontaine chuckled at Sinclair. "We want you to have Jack's trigger phrase."

Eyes widening all over again, Sinclair looked to Jack but didn't find any help there as Jack looked like he was internally screaming and wasn't looking at either of them. He filed that away to bring up in a moment and turned his attention back to Fontaine. "I-- well, I don't know what to say, Franky." He admitted, not even sure how to _feel_ about all the uncharacteristic trust Fontaine had been displaying in the last ten minutes.

Huffing out a soft laugh, Fontaine leaned over a bit and motioned for Sinclair to come closer. "His trigger phrase is "if you'd please". It works before or after a command and writin' it works just as well as sayin' it." He whispered, pulling back and picking the tattoo tool back up so he could finally finish up Jack's tattoo. He still needed to add the tag with his name on it. Before Sinclair could say anything, Fontaine looked to Jack with the intention of telling him to hold still again, but instead caught the face he was making and raised an eyebrow at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Yeah, he's been pullin' that face for a bit now." Sinclair piped up, looking slightly concerned.

"I-- we-- m-married?" Jack asked, his voice a bit higher than usual as he finally focused on Fontaine.

Frowning, Fontaine opened his mouth but then his eyes widened. "Oh, shit, I forgot to make it official, didn't I?" He asked, glaring over when Sinclair cracked up and started laughing.

"I knew it!" He boasted, laughing harder when Fontaine threw a throw pillow at him.

"Whatever." Fontaine grumbled, looking at Jack again. "Will you marry me, doll?" He asked, smirking as Jack's eyes widened again.

Since the first time Fontaine had mentioned it, the idea of getting married to him had always struck Jack with a weird feeling that made him sort of sick. He wasn't sure if it was nervousness but it felt similar to nervousness. Now, though, now that he was really and truly asking, it didn't seem as scary as he'd imagined it. Suddenly tearing up, Jack covered his mouth to hide his trembling lip and nodded. Fontaine smiled at him and moved his hand to kiss him and Jack hugged him tightly and kissed him back, trying hard not to cry.

Once the kiss ended, Fontaine got off of Jack's lap and knelt in front of Sinclair. Sinclair's eyes widened yet again and Fontaine grinned, taking one of his hands and looking into his eyes. "Augustus Sinclair, will you marry me?" He asked softly, grin softening into a smile when Sinclair rolled his eyes to hide that they were also tearing up.

"Oh, I suppose." Sinclair mumbled, laughing softly when Fontaine stood again to pull him into a brief, but tight, hug.

Pulling away, Fontaine looked back over to Jack, who was smiling and crying a bit now, and offered him a teasing grin. "Sorry I didn't get all fancy and formal for you too, doll, but Sinclair's classy and you're easy, so." He trailed off, offering Jack a shrug and smiling more when Jack blushed and looked away with a giggle.

"I don't mind, Daddy." He said softly, glancing back over. "You know I like being your easy little slut."

Humming in approval, Fontaine looked back at Sinclair and jerked his head back at Jack, raising an eyebrow in a "well?" gesture. It took Sinclair a moment to realize what Fontaine was getting at but then he let out a little "oh!" and got up. Deciding that even if Jack was easy, he deserved to be at least _treated_ classy, he took one of Jack's hands like Fontaine had done to him and kissed his knuckles lightly. "And will you also marry me, butterfly?"

Giggling again and unable to hold back a fresh wave of tears, Jack nodded. "Yes." He said happily, pulling Sinclair into his lap, which made Sinclair yelp slightly in surprise, and holding him close. "Yes, of course I'll marry both of you." He finished, swiping lightly at his tears before lifting Sinclair up to make room for Fontaine to join him on his lap. Fontaine was now sitting sideways on Jack's lap with his back to the couch and Jack lowered Sinclair back down so he was on Fontaine's outstretched legs with his back to Jack's chest. Once both men were settled, and Sinclair was thoroughly red in the face from being lifted up like he weighed nothing, which he honestly thought he'd never get used to, Jack hugged both men close, sighing happily once he had both of them gathered up in his arms.

Laughing softly once he got over the shock of being man-handled so casually, Sinclair leaned over to peck Fontaine's lips and then tilted his head to pull Jack into a deep kiss, which he happily returned. "We are _never_ gonna find someone to officiate this marriage." He hummed once they'd pulled away, still smiling despite his assertion.

"I, Frank Fontaine, with the power vested in me _by_ me, as the God-King of Rapture, hereby officiate this marriage." Fontaine said, looking quite sure of himself. "I make the rules down here and I say that counts."

After staring at Fontaine for a bit, Sinclair chuckled and shook his head. "Aw, hell, that's good enough for me." He decided, smiling over at Jack and ignoring the twinge in his nethers when he realized that even elevated as he was by Fontaine's legs, he was only eye-level with the massive man. "How about you, butterfly?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Jack squeezed both men very briefly, mindful as always of how much force he used and how long he held it, before loosening his grip again. "That's more than enough for me."

"Guess that means we're well an' truly officially family, then." Sinclair concluded, raising an eyebrow when Fontaine cringed lightly.

"We can call it that, but we ain't gettin' any kids or anythin' like that. I fuckin' hate kids." He grumbled, having never liked the word _family_. It had been hard enough using it so often as "Atlas" and he knew his distaste of it likely stemmed from the whole orphan thing and the trust issues upon trust issues, but he supposed if this was what constituted a family, maybe it wasn't _so_ bad.

"Does that mean we can't celebrate with you and Papa putting a baby in me, Daddy?" Jack asked innocently, smiling triumphantly when both Fontaine and Sinclair turned red and Fontaine's eyes widened.

"I-I think that might be the hottest thing you've ever said to me, doll." Fontaine muttered once his brain was done being frozen in shock. Then he thought of something and his shocked but impressed expression was replaced by a worried frown. "Wait, you can't actually get pregnant can you?" He asked quietly, looking at Jack and not feeling much better when his cheeky smile fell into a confused frown.

"I-- don't think so?" Jack replied uncertainly, suddenly looking a little panicked as well. His only interaction with children had been with the Little Sisters and he viewed them as a resource to be used when needed at best and as something equivalent to a particularly stubborn wrapper keeping him from a treat he wanted at worst, so he was pretty sure he didn't like kids either. "I only read so many reports before they all started looking alike and I got bored." Jack added, frowning even more when Fontaine muttered an emphatic _shit_. Jack knew most men couldn't get pregnant, but he was made of Adam, there was no telling how his body worked!

Just before Fontaine and Jack got up to panicking hard enough to tear through all of Jack's files in search of a definitive answer, Sinclair spoke up, having been watching in equal amounts concern and amusement up until that point. "Haven't you two been raw-doggin' since you met? If Jack could get pregnant, he would be and he'd be showin' by now to boot." He said, laughing when both Jack and Fontaine deflated after a moment of considering his words.

"Fuck, I'm dumb too." Fontaine whispered, running a hand through his hair. "Sin, you're the smart one now, I've been replaced."

Laughing even harder, Sinclair shook his head. "Neither one of you are dumb, and I won't hear a word otherwise." He chastised, his tone light despite the scolding. "You just weren't thinkin'. It was all rather cute, actually."

Deciding to ignore that last comment as he was too busy slumping against the couch in relief, Fontaine sighed and side-eyed Jack. "I dunno 'bout you two, but I wanna get this fuckin' tattoo finished so I can knock back a couple shots and get the honeymoon started. All this emotional shit is exhaustin'."

This time Jack joined Sinclair in laughing, but Sinclair still moved to get off of their laps with Jack's help. Fontaine got back into position and started the tool back up so he could finally put the finishing touches on Jack's tattoo. Several minutes later and Jack was officially marked as Fontaine's. Fontaine smiled at his handiwork and then got off Jack's lap, passing over a hand mirror so Jack could admire his tattoo while he stretched his legs out.

"I love it, Daddy!" Jack said happily, setting the mirror down and getting up so he could hug Fontaine. "Thank you." The tattoo was exactly how Jack had imagined it and it was high up enough that so long as he never wore a high-necked sweater or buttoned up a shirt all the way, it would always be visible. The whole world would always know who he belonged first and foremost to.

Chuckling fondly, Fontaine hugged Jack back. "You're welcome, doll." He replied, pulling away and pointing upstairs. "Now get that fat ass upstairs so Sin an' me can put a fuckin' baby in you."

Flushing darkly and giggling, Jack nodded eagerly and hurried upstairs. He wasn't the most fond of his height or his width, but Jack had always been very happy about the size of certain important parts of his body and his ass was definitely one of those parts. His ass, his _tits_ as Fontaine called them, his thighs, and his stomach pudge which kept his stomach muscles hidden even when he flexed. Honestly, that last one was probably Jack's favorite part of himself.

After watching Jack, or more specifically his ass, disappear up the stairs, Fontaine turned to Sinclair. "So, how we gonna make this work?" He asked, looking around and locating a half-drunk bottle of alcohol fairly quickly. Fontaine went to retrieve it while Sinclair hummed and seemed to ponder his question and checked the label on the bottle before opening it and downing a swallow.

"Suppose we could all try layin' on our sides." Sinclair suggested, grimacing a bit as Fontaine took another swallow of what appeared to be straight-up whiskey. The ease with which Fontaine drank straight alcohol, and the amount that he drank for that matter, had always made Sinclair oddly concerned for the younger man. The more things change and so on, he supposed, for what felt like the millionth time, the thought oddly comforting even as Fontaine took a third swallow before finally setting the bottle aside.

"That could work, but I kinda wanna make Jack do all the work." Fontaine replied, smiling and shrugging unapologetically when Sinclair shook his head at him.

"So straddlin' one of us, then, I suppose." Sinclair said, looking Fontaine up and down. "I know you've been on your knees for the last couple hours, but mine ain't exactly what they used to be and I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up with Jackie if I end up the one behind him." He admitted, frowning a bit when Fontaine came back over, looking oddly sad. "What?"

Smiling a little to mask the look he hadn't meant to let slip, Fontaine shook his head slightly and cupped Sinclair's cheek lovingly. "Just thinkin' 'bout how I need to get back to where I was at on my Adam research so I can hurry up and make your old ass immortal." He murmured, smiling a little more genuinely when Sinclair gaped at him and swatted his hand away.

"You absolute-- immortal?" Sinclair asked, having been about to start scolding Fontaine and instead frowning in confusion when that part suddenly clicked in his head. "Franky, that's not possible. Everyone has a time to go. That's just life."

Shrugging lightly, Fontaine started for the stairs. "So, you on your back and I'll come in from behind?" He asked, glancing back at Sinclair but not waiting for a response when he saw how Sinclair was frowning at him, more annoyance at being shrugged off than confusion now. "Sounds like a plan."

Sighing deeply, Sinclair followed Fontaine up the stairs but pulled him aside before they got to the bedroom. "We're not finished discussin' this." He assured, passing Fontaine up but stopping shortly after he entered the room. Apparently Jack had either gotten impatient waiting for them or had just decided to take the prep work into his own hands, or hand, really, because he was currently naked and on all fours practically fisting himself; four fingers, that were absolutely drenched in lube Sinclair noted with pride, moving in and out of himself with ease.

Suddenly sensing eyes on him, Jack stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder. He smiled at his two-man audience and pulled his fingers from himself, wiggling his ass invitingly. "I stretched." He said happily, the bulk of the tense air having been surprised right out of Sinclair and Fontaine and so going unnoticed by the very excited Jack.

"Ya sure did." Fontaine said, grinning and coming over to admire Jack's dripping hole. He gave a light whistle and smacked Jack's ass hard enough to leave a handprint. Jack gasped and his hips jerked hard, making Fontaine's grin grow. "You're practically gapin' already."

"And I see you broke out the actual lube." Sinclair hummed, coming over as well and rubbing his hand soothingly over the print Fontaine had left. "What a good boy you are, butterfly." He flashed Fontaine a smile when Jack practically whined at the attention and praise and Fontaine shared his amusement with a good-natured shake of his head.

"How is it-" Fontaine started, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. "-that the same person who gets off on bein' told they ain't worth the cum bein' pumped into 'em also just fuckin' _melts_ when given even the tiniest bit'a praise?" He tossed his shirt aside and looked over to Sinclair, half expecting to get a scolding.

"Suppose that's just how needy sluts are." Sinclair hummed casually, grinning at the full-body shiver his comment dragged from Jack. He glanced over to Fontaine and grinned all the more at the impressed look on his face. "Desperate for anythin' ya can give 'em." Sinclair carried on, shedding his own shirt as he spoke. "Praise and insults, pleasure-" He paused, smiling wickedly at how Fontaine was watching him in rapt attention. Not to mention he could tell Jack was holding his breath, anticipating the opposite of pleasure. "-and pain." Sinclair finished lowly, bringing his hand down hard on Jack's unmarked asscheek and leaving his own handprint. Jack moaned and shuddered, his head now resting on the mattress, his ass presented nicely for anything Sinclair and Fontaine wanted to do to it.

"Sounds about right." Fontaine agreed, lightly scraping his nails down the mark Sinclair had made and chuckling darkly at the low whine he dragged out of Jack.

Quite suddenly, Jack laughed softly, the sound shaky and embarrassed. "I'm already starting to leak and I haven't even gotten you two inside me yet." He mumbled, flushing dark red but smiling through his embarrassment when both Sinclair and Fontaine laughed.

"Well, suppose we shouldn't keep him waitin' too much longer then, should we, Franky?" Sinclair asked, already getting out of his pants and looking over to see Fontaine was doing the same.

"I dunno." Fontaine drawled, making quick work of his underwear once his pants were off so he could get on the bed and grope both of Jack's abused cheeks hard. "I say we make him nut like this and then fill him up while he's still shiverin' through the aftershocks."

"Daddy." Jack moaned, his dick twitching hard at the thought.

"Or maybe," Sinclair started, crawling onto the bed and laying on his side so he could reach over and force Jack to look at him. "we keep him from blowin' his load without our permission and then make him beg for it after we've had our fun."

" _Fuck_." Fontaine whispered from behind Jack, his own cock giving a twitch as he watched Sinclair work.

"Papa." Jack whimpered, looking into Sinclair's dark hazel eyes and suddenly realizing without a hint of uncertainty that he now had more than one god. Sinclair could control him just like Fontaine could, after all, and only someone truly divine could hold their ground with Fontaine the way Sinclair did. When Sinclair pulled Jack from his thoughts by giving him a barely noticeable nod, it took Jack a moment to realize he was trying to ask for permission without ruining the moment. He nodded back, slightly more noticeably than Sinclair's nod and Sinclair looked up at Fontaine expectantly.

"Whatta you think, Franky? Should we help our eager lil' slut out with keepin' from goin' off?"

"I suppose I'm feelin' merciful today." Fontaine hummed, squeezing Jack's ass again and digging his nails into the plump flesh just short of hard enough to draw blood. Jack let out a shuddering moan and squeezed his thighs together noticeably, clearly trying to stave off the tide rising in his stomach. "It is my honeymoon, after all." He continued, leaning over Jack to whisper in his ear on the side Sinclair was on so he'd also hear. "I just got married to the two lights'a my life so I'm in a pretty good mood."

Shuddering and whining highly, Jack shook his head. "Please, please, do it now, I-I can't, please--" He babbled, squirming and shivering from how hard it had suddenly gotten to hold himself back.

Fontaine chuckled at Jack's pleas but gave Sinclair a nod, giving him permission to be the one to issue the command. He'd done it plenty of times, after all, and this was a special occasion, so Sinclair deserved the honor. Fontaine felt good about his decision when Sinclair looked quite pleased at getting to be the one to use Jack's phrase.

"Well then, butterfly, since you asked so nicely, don't cum until you're given permission, if you'd please." Sinclair ordered, watching curiously as Jack shivered lightly before relaxing and taking in a few ragged breaths.

"I won't, Papa, I promise." Jack mumbled, smiling a little at Fontaine's pleased hum and the smile Sinclair gave him for his valiant effort to keep the moment going despite clearly needing a minute.

"That's our boy." Sinclair murmured in approval, laughing softly as Jack groaned and dropped his head again. "Think we better get to stuffin' before he explodes, Franky."

"Right as always, Sin." Fontaine replied, getting off of Jack and smacking him on the ass when Sinclair got settled on his back. "Straddle your Papa, slut." He ordered lightly, grinning as Jack shivered but moved quickly to obey him, carefully swinging one leg over Sinclair's hips before settling all his weight on his legs. Jack was always so aware of how strong and how heavy he was and Fontaine thought it was sweet that he was so considerate all the time.

Getting into position behind Jack, Fontaine lined up his cock and waited patiently for Sinclair to finish lubing up before they started to push in together. Normally it would've been easier to get one cock into Jack and then the other, but given their position, it would be less awkward for him to just take them at once. More painful, sure, but Jack had never been one to shy away from a little pain and in fact moaned the whole way, clearly enjoying the stretch and burn of being stuffed so full so fast.

Once both men were as deep inside Jack as they'd get given the position, he leaned over a bit in order to brace his hands on the bed and looked down between his and Sinclair's bodies as he raised himself up and sat down again, moaning at the view of himself taking both cocks. It still hurt a bit, but Jack couldn't imagine waiting one more minute to get started and so didn't, raising his hips once again and quickly falling into a steady rhythm. When Fontaine suddenly joined the rhythm with a harsh snap of his own hips, Jack moaned again and sped up considerably, his dick aching as much as his overstretched hole from how turned on he was.

"How's that feel, doll?" Fontaine breathed in his ear, leaning over Jack again to reach. The position put the bulk of his weight on Jack's back, but after everything he'd seen Jack do, he knew he could handle holding up the both of them no problem. "That hungry little snatch'a yours finally feel full?"

Moaning shakily at Fontaine's words, Jack nodded eagerly and bounced faster still. "Yes, Daddy. You and Papa are so perfect, it feels so good."

"Perfect, huh?" Sinclair asked, grinning in amusement and reaching over to teasingly run his fingers from the base of Jack's dick to the tip. "Wonder if you'll still think that when we have you sobbin' for your release." He hummed casually, giving Jack's dick a hard squeeze and grinning more when he jolted and moaned loudly.

"Papa! Oh my gods." Jack whimpered, quivering and speeding up while Sinclair kept fondling his straining dick.

"Gods?" Fontaine asked, gripping Jack's hair hard and pressing his free hand to Jack's lower back. He pulled Jack's head back by the grip on his hair but thanks to the hand on his back, which Jack yielded to despite Fontaine not having the actual strength to hold him down, Jack's back arched in a way that would certainly be painful if he weren't so oddly flexible and exposed all his most vulnerable parts to Sinclair. "Last I checked I was your only god." Fontaine practically snarled in his ear, Sinclair laughing a bit as Jack's dick twitched in his hand.

"Bad news, Franky, he ain't afraid'a you." Sinclair said happily, putting his free arm behind himself to prop himself up on his elbow and leaning up to take advantage of Jack's exposed throat. "Actually, I think he likes it when you're angry." He hummed, nipping Jack's neck lightly and choosing a spot to start making a hickey.

"That right, bitch?" Fontaine growled, biting Jack's ear hard enough to draw blood. "Ya like when your god's angry?"

"Fuck, Daddy, yes." Jack whimpered, bouncing like his life depended on it despite the contorting he was being forced to do and how overstimulated he was beginning to feel. Then Sinclair started sucking on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck and Jack's hips stuttered to a stop, a few choice swear words leaving him in quick succession as his dick twitched hard in a valiant effort to cum despite the order keeping him from doing so.

"Language!" Sinclair gasped, pulling back in order to slap Jack across the face.

"Sorry, Papa." Jack whimpered, his stinging cheek only adding to how turned on he was.

"Did we fuckin' tell you you could stop?" Fontaine snarled, shaking Jack's head with the grip on his hair and grinning when Jack whimpered but kept moving obediently.

"No, Daddy. I'm sorry." Jack said quickly, tears prickling his eyes. He couldn't remember ever being so violently turned on in his life. Granted, the amount of life he could remember wasn't much, but it was fairly full of violent arousal, so it still felt like saying alot to say so.

Smirking to hide the relief he felt at Jack enjoying being slapped, which had been risk on his part, but he _was_ rather caught up in the moment, Sinclair lightly dug his thumbnail into the slit of Jack's dick. Jack's hips stuttered again, but he didn't stop bouncing this time and Sinclair hummed in approval. "Well, our slutty little prophet has the ability to learn. Who'd'a thought?"

It felt like getting punched in the gut in the best way possible to hear Sinclair call him his and Fontaine's prophet and Jack practically sobbed as he tried to cum again. "Oh my gods, please, please." He said loudly, starting to feel like he might lose his mind if he didn't get to cum soon. "Please, I need to cum so bad, please my gods, please."

"Fucking fuck." Fontaine breathed, cumming instantly but continuing to drive himself into Jack. He managed to lock eyes with Sinclair and they shared a nod before he tightened the grip in Jack's hair, a few strands coming loose in his grip. "Cum for your gods, slut." He growled, releasing Jack's hair and dragging his nails down his back hard enough to draw blood as Jack dropped forward and went rigid as he came.

Underneath Jack, Sinclair got to watch the younger man's face contort in pleasure so strong it looked painful, his mouth open in a silent scream. The thought of the control it must be taking for Jack to still keep himself upright enough to not crush him despite what looked like a mind-numbing orgasm mixed with how his hole was now absolutely _milking_ his cock sent Sinclair off and he moaned loudly as he came, falling back against the pillows.

Time lost all meaning for Jack as he was finally allowed his release and he wasn't entirely sure if he'd blacked out or not, but when he finally came back to himself, he was on his elbows, hovering over Sinclair, and could feel the comforting pressure of the older man's arms around his neck. Fontaine was yet another comforting pressure as he was draped across his back, peppering him with little kisses in his post-orgasm haze. Mentally checking his position to make sure he wasn't crushing Sinclair and finding he was still supporting his own weight, Jack closed his eyes and allowed himself a tired smile.

He was exhausted and sore and so full of cum he was sure his stomach must be at least a little bit bigger, but Jack had never felt happier. It felt great to be the prophet of one god, but it felt downright _amazing_ to be the prophet of two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Objectofimagination thought the boys deserved a chill chapter and I agreed very much. I'm obviously not great at chill, but I tried. As chill as it gets in Rapture, I guess lol
> 
> The whole baby scene was inspired by something lunawuna69 said. I don't do pregnancy, but I did think the panic aspect of it was funny as hell so I worked it out.
> 
> As of 12/16/2020, I've soft-overhauled everything and added chapter tags. Nothing big was changed or added, it was mostly typo fixes, but I thought y'all should know.
> 
> ALSO! sophr0nia on Tumblr drew a picture of Fitzpatrick inspired by this chapter! https://sophr0nia.tumblr.com/post/636782851597172736/i-read-the-latest-chapter-of-cynicallion5s-fan The outfit is more conservative and traditional than the one I plan on giving him, but ain't he cute!?


	21. Learning Manners (Skippable)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinclair convinces Fontaine to take a break from hacking into Lamb's camera system to go visit Ryan. Jack tags along and Ryan has a very bad day.
> 
> (This is an optional skippable chapter set in the week or so it took Fontaine to hack Lamb so if watching Ryan suffer isn't your cup of tea, you won't miss anything from not reading this chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Augustus Sinclair, Frank Fontaine, Jack Fontaine, Andrew Ryan
> 
> Relationships: Augustus Sinclair/Andrew Ryan (sort of), Frank Fontaine/Jack Fontaine
> 
> Tags/Warnings: Crossdressing, Humiliation, Degradation, Scarification, Mentions of Past Torture/Mutilation, Sadism, Punishment, Light Non-Con Masturbation, Blindfolds, Panties as a Gag, Cockrings, Bondage, Non-Con Spanking, Masturbation, Masochism, Blowjobs, Light Cock-Warming, Light Overstimulation, Crying

"You look awful frustrated by that there signal, Franky." Sinclair hummed from behind Fontaine, watching over his shoulder as he tried to crack the shifting pattern that would get him into the camera feeds for the older parts of Rapture.

After their thoroughly exhausting honeymoon, Jack, Fontaine, and Sinclair had taken the rest of the day to rest, but Fontaine had taken the first opportunity to get back to work and had now been at his hacking for hours. Sinclair had been told in that time that the first batch of Plasmids were officially ready to be sent out and set the team to guard duty instead. Then he'd gotten the rest of Fontaine's teams looking for his list of wonderments so they could finally get the ball rolling on their contact with the surface. When he'd finally found his way back to Fontaine, he'd found the younger man looking like he was ready to rip his hair out.

"It shouldn't be this difficult!" Fontaine shouted, flopping back in his chair and laying his head on Sinclair's shoulder since it was right there. "What the hell is Lamb hidin' down there?"

Humming sympathetically, Sinclair shifted and started massaging Fontaine's tense shoulders. "I think you should take a break." He said, smiling when Fontaine grumbled at the idea. "I know you're a workaholic, but I've been sorta dyin' to see what you've done with ol' Andy and I did always find him more palatable with you around so I'm not exactly eager to go visitin' him on my own."

Perking up a bit at the mention of his current pet project, Fontaine tilted his head back to look at Sinclair. "I guess a break wouldn't kill me."

Smiling at Fontaine's shift in mood, Sinclair leaned forward and kissed his husband on the forehead. "Grand. I don't fancy the idea of seein' Andy in my bloomers, so I'm gonna go get dressed." He informed, smiling more when that got a laugh out of Fontaine.

"You should let Jack know we're visitin' his old man, he might wanna come along." Fontaine suggested, getting up from his chair and stretching out. Sinclair gave him a hum of acknowledgment and Fontaine watched him leave, admiring the sway of his hips as he walked. Once Sinclair was gone, Fontaine sighed tiredly and looked down at his control board. He really did need a break. Unplugging a few wires and flipping a few switches in order to prevent anyone from reverse hacking him, Fontaine left the board and got a quick drink from the little bar in the corner before leaving his office.

The bedroom door opened just as Fontaine was reaching the door to Ryan's room and Jack came out, wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. Fontaine smiled when Jack caught sight of him and lit up instantly. It was wild to think that his very presence was enough to make Jack smile like that but he supposed he felt the same way about the great lug. Then Jack came over and allowed himself to be wrapped in a hug and he knew. He hadn't just been trying to make Jack melt when he said the kid was the light of his life. Well, one of two, but still.

"Joinin' us, then?" Fontaine asked, pulling away to admire the bruises and bitemarks littering the parts of Jack's body he could see. Thanks to being made of Adam, Jack healed quickly. Bullet wounds became scabs in minutes and a bruise could heal in practically no time. For some reason though, and Fontaine wasn't even sure if Jack was aware of it, the injuries he received during sex took about the amount of time to heal as they would for a normal person.

"I wanna see the look on his face when he sees my tattoos." Jack said, smiling rather darkly. "I don't think he'll be dumb enough to say anything, but I might scoop his eyes out and make him eat them if I don't like the face he makes."

Laughing, Fontaine shook his head fondly. "That'll definitely be somethin'." He said, flashing his smile at Sinclair when he came over, completing their three different levels of casual. Fontaine was a tie short for work casual, Sinclair looked like he planned on lounging about the house for the day, and Jack was barely dressed.

Able to tell right away that Fontaine's mood had been considerably elevated from mere moments ago, Sinclair smiled back. "I'm ready when you two boys are."

Having heard Fontaine's laugh despite the fairly thick walls of his cell, Ryan was waiting on edge for his arrival and successfully managed to not grimace when Jack came in right behind him. When yet another familiar face came in right after them, however, he couldn't keep his eyes from widening in surprise. Sinclair flashed him that million dollar smile that he'd somehow managed to keep up despite everything and Ryan clenched his jaw to keep himself from sneering in return. Despite being one of the first people Ryan had invited to Rapture due to their many similarities, he'd never liked Sinclair. Something about the man had always unnerved him and he'd never approved of the rather shady way he did business.

An edge of amusement entered Sinclair's smile as he realized what Ryan was wearing and it seemed Ryan knew that's what he was smiling about, because he flushed and averted his gaze. Much to Sinclair's surprise, Ryan was wearing a lovely emerald green satin party dress. It had a fairly conservative cut to it and looked like it ended right at his knees, though there was a white petticoat underneath that made the skirt lift somewhat and he was sitting so it was a little hard to tell. It had straps but no sleeves and there was a white sash around the middle tied off to the side in a bow. The best part of the ensemble was by far the silky white thigh-high stockings creeping up his otherwise bare feet.

"Well, aren't you pretty?" Sinclair said, grin unmoving as Ryan glanced up at him angrily. "I always knew _prisoner_ would be a good look on you, Andy, but I never realized green was your color."

After biting back the reflexive urge to tell Sinclair not to call him _Andy_ , Ryan took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. "I'm surprised you lasted this long, Sinclair." He greeted, deciding to ignore Sinclair's comments and feeling rather proud of himself when his voice actually came out fairly even. "Though I'm not surprised you managed to throw yourself in with--" Ryan's eyes, on the way over to Fontaine, caught on Jack. More specifically, on his neck.

Smirking as Ryan noticed his tattoo, Jack raised his left hand, wrist out, and laughed softly at how Ryan had to look away.

"Well." Ryan huffed after a bit, voice tight as he fought to keep it even. "I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised."

"Allow me to officially introduce you to my husbands." Fontaine said happily, wrapping one arm around Jack's hips and the other around Sinclair's shoulders. "Augustus Sinclair and Jack Fontaine." During their long snuggle after their honeymoon, Fontaine had brought up Jack's surname and Jack, after some deep consideration, had shyly asked if it would be alright with both men if he went by Fontaine's name. It had made Fontaine happier than he'd ever readily admit that Jack chose to take his name, but he'd been more than prepared to negotiate with Sinclair before the other man had laughed at Jack's nervousness and assured him he wasn't offended in the slightest.

Cringing at his son's taking of his nemesis' name, Ryan kept his eyes averted, not wanting to see Fontaine's no-doubt smug expression or whatever look Jack might have on his face. "Congratulations." He mumbled, clearly not meaning it. _You all deserve eachother._ But he'd at least given into his situation enough to know better than to voice that part. After the last time he'd mouthed off and Jack had used his larynx as a masturbation aid, he'd decided that seeing the flicker of pain his jabs caused wasn't worth it.

"Y'know, when you said you were keepin' him around, I really thought he'd be more broken." Sinclair hummed, looking up at Fontaine. "You used to be rather good at this sorta thing, Franky."

Cocking a challenging eyebrow at Sinclair, Fontaine looked at Ryan, bringing his arms back to himself in order to cross them. "Show us your brand." Ryan hesitated but stood from his chair and turned around before he got Jack sicced on him. He slowly lifted the poofy skirts of his dress, revealing along the way lacy white garters holding up his socks and silky white panties, only stopping once he'd revealed his lower back. Scarred into the skin there were the words "Bottom Bitch".

"Oh." Sinclair said, making an impressed face and nodding a bit. "That is somethin', actually." The Andrew Ryan Sinclair had known didn't take orders from anyone and especially not to do something so demeaning. "Alright, that's plenty. Point proven." Sinclair said once he'd looked his fill, watching as Ryan looked to Fontaine uncertainly, almost nervously, and feeling a thrill in the darkest parts of his mind at how _good_ the expression looked on the once-proud man's face. "Oh, Franky, I shouldn't have doubted you for a moment." He practically purred as Ryan lowered his dress and settled cautiously back down in his chair after receiving Fontaine's nod of permission.

"He's still a little stubborn sometimes, but I always liked his spirit. I want him broken, but not so broken that he loses that spark to 'im." Fontaine replied, smiling viciously as Ryan visibly and obviously kept himself from ruffling at the fact that he was being discussed as though he wasn't there.

"This is all rather nice for what's essentially a prison cell, though, isn't it?" Sinclair asked, looking around the room and raising an eyebrow at the record player on its own small table.

"He gets little comforts when he makes good decisions and behaves himself." Fontaine replied, taking Ryan's jaw in his hand and chuckling softly when he flinched. "Don't you, bottom bitch?"

"Yes." Ryan muttered, looking at the floor and feeling the familiar sensation of his skin crawling in disgust and hatred towards himself at what that voice, spoken so low and sweet, and that touch, so warm and sure, still did to him despite everything.

"Atta boy." Fontaine murmured, letting Ryan's jaw go. "Now, since me and Sin are married now, you should consider him on the same level as me. You do everythin' he says, understand?"

"Yes." Ryan confirmed, flinching when Fontaine's hand found its way to his hair and pulled hard, forcing him to look up.

"Good. Now, apologize for how sassy ya were when he came in here." Fontaine demanded, pulling Ryan off the chair by the grip on his hair and forcing him to his knees.

"I'm sorry." Ryan mumbled, glancing over at Sinclair and swallowing despite himself when he looked unimpressed.

"That was pathetic, Andy." Sinclair drawled, putting a hand on his hip. "Don't tell me you haven't learned how to apologize properly yet?"

"I barely managed to teach him to bite his tongue." Fontaine informed, releasing Ryan's hair and crossing his arms again. "He learns real slow even with how bad he gets hurt for it. Me and Jack think it's cuz he likes his punishments for not learnin'."

"Like when I gave him his brand for refusing to call himself our bottom bitch." Jack added helpfully, smiling fondly at the memory. "I burned the words into his back twice before he cracked."

"Well, that simply won't do." Sinclair decided, stepping forward and tilting Ryan's face up with a finger under his chin. "Now, Andy, hon, I don't rightly approve of what I've heard Frank likes to have Jack do to you, but I've always been a man to try somethin' at least once before writin' it off." The way Ryan's eyes widened in obvious fear was very gratifying, but Sinclair just smiled warmly down at him. "So I think you'd better learn right this moment how to apologize properly or **I'll** be the one convincin' Jack to play with you." Sinclair's smile became sharper and his eyes glinted cruelly. "And while we've never played together, I'm sure you've heard rumors about what I'm like. I assure you, they don't do the reality justice."

Swallowing hard and shaking a bit despite himself, Ryan looked down once again when Sinclair let him go. "I'm sorry." He breathed, voice shaky but as sincere as he could make it come out with the whirlwind of rage and fear going in his mind.

"For what, Andy? Be specific now." Sinclair chided, his grin devilish now but his voice as gentle as ever.

"I'm sorry for my rude reaction to your arrival." Ryan specified, letting out an involuntary breath of relief when Sinclair hummed in a distinctly pleased way.

"That's much better." Sinclair praised, reaching out and ruffling Ryan's hair condescendingly. "See how easy it is to be polite?"

"Yes." Ryan murmured, feeling sick as he realized this was a new level to his personal hell that he was just going to have to learn to bear with the rest.

" **That** was so fuckin' hot." Fontaine breathed, grinning at Sinclair when he shot a fond smile at him over his shoulder. "That's definitely the quickest he's ever caved in to apologizin'. Last time I wanted him to apologize for somethin', he wouldn't. Not even once Jack started pullin' out all his teeth."

"Well, he sort of couldn't once I got started." Jack hummed, wrapping his arms around Fontaine from behind and laying his head on the shorter man's shoulder in order to peer over it at Ryan.

"He knew it was comin' though." Fontaine countered, looking at Sinclair when he held his hand up.

"Hold on, let's go back a moment." Sinclair said, lowering his hand and looking down at Ryan. "What on Earth could've possibly been worth not budgin' on when you knew gettin' yourself well and truly mutilated was gonna be the consequence?"

Letting out an annoyed huff before he could stifle it, Ryan flinched slightly and shrunk into himself a bit more. "I refused to apologize for treating Jack badly." He answered tightly, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Oh?" Sinclair asked, voice oddly chipper. He turned to look at Jack, an eyebrow raised and a sharpness in his eyes that Jack had never seen. "I'm gonna go ahead and assume based on Andy's tone that he still hasn't quite learned his lesson on that particular issue. Is that right?" Jack, unable to find his voice in the wake of this new, kind of scary, side to Sinclair, simply nodded, watching in mixed fascination and apprehension as Sinclair turned back to Ryan with a displeased hum. "Well, I'm afraid that just won't do either. Not while I'm around."

Suddenly Ryan felt like an unruly dog who'd had a professional trainer called on him and he glanced at Fontaine. The smug grin on his face did nothing to make him think that wasn't exactly what was happening and he looked down, frowning deeply at his lap. He didn't like that his mind had automatically gone to that particular analogy and he liked even less that it made so much sense.

Unbeknownst to Ryan, Sinclair looked at Fontaine, pointing at Ryan with his thumb and raising his eyebrow questioningly. He didn't want to ask permission out loud and ruin the illusion of him and Fontaine having equal say in Ryan's suffering but he also didn't want to risk breaking Fontaine's toy without his permission. Sinclair grinned briefly when Fontaine nodded enthusiastically and motioned at Ryan in a distinctly "go ahead" fashion. Turning back to Ryan, who was thankfully too busy glaring at his lap to notice their little exchange, Sinclair tapped his foot a few times.

"First thing's first, I suppose." Sinclair hummed after a bit, tilting Ryan's face up to meet his eyes. "You look far too comfy in that pretty little number you're wearin', so take it off."

Swallowing as Sinclair released him, Ryan stood once again and undid the ribbon around his waist. He then reached back and managed to get the zipper down. Taking a quick breath, Ryan slid the straps off his arms and allowed the dress to slide off him and pool on the floor. Before anyone could scold him for it, he stepped out of the pooled satin and picked it up, setting it down on the chair he'd just been sitting on. Fontaine let out a low, lecherous whistle that made Ryan flush in embarrassment and Sinclair hummed lightly.

"The little bow on the front is a nice touch." Sinclair said to Fontaine, motioning at the little green bow at the top of Ryan's panties.

"Yeah, I thought so too." Fontaine agreed, drinking in Ryan's humiliation like he could sustain himself on it. Even Jack was smiling, Fontaine could feel it against his neck.

"Now, Andy, or do you prefer bottom bitch?" Sinclair asked kindly, smiling sweetly at Ryan even as his eyes were still sharp as knives.

"Andy is fine." Ryan mumbled, hating both names but deciding that at least "Andy" left him _some_ dignity.

"Well, then, Andy, today we're gonna learn all about bein' nice." Sinclair carried on, pointing at the bed. "Go on and bend over there, I'll be with you momentarily."

Face burning in humiliation and anger, Ryan walked over to the bed and did as he was told, gripping the sheets hard and trying to disassociate from the situation before it got any worse. He could hear Sinclair talking quietly with the other two and when he heard the door open and close, he glanced over despite himself to see that Fontaine had left. Swallowing hard, Ryan quickly turned his face away again, and held his breath as the bed dipped off to the side. He didn't dare look at who was sitting there, but when hands that weren't big enough to cover his entire face swept along his silk-clad backside, he figured it must be Jack on the bed and Sinclair behind him.

"These might get in the way." Sinclair hummed to himself, debating on whether or not he should have Ryan remove his panties before getting a deliciously naughty idea and deciding to let him keep them for the moment. He kept idly exploring Ryan's asscheeks, enjoying the occasional shivers his wandering hands managed to drag out of Ryan, until Fontaine returned with the supplies Sinclair had sent him off to get.

Grinning as Fontaine deposited the toys on the bed, Sinclair draped a sheet over them to keep them from view and popped Ryan on the ass. "Work yourself up for me, Andy." He ordered, taking a step back and folding his arms over his chest. "Right there against the side of the bed, no hands."

After briefly entertaining the idea of telling Sinclair to go fuck himself and deciding that it was a horrible idea that would absolutely **not** be worth the consequences, Ryan began to move his hips slowly against the side of the bed. Embarrassing as this was, Ryan had been forced to do worse and, much to his impossibly increasing anger and humiliation, he was indeed starting to work himself up. Gradually his hips moved faster and just before Ryan was about to slip and let out a noise that would make him wish he was dead, Sinclair popped him on the ass again, breaking his focus and instantly stilling his hips.

"That's enough, Andy. Panties off now." Sinclair ordered, watching as Ryan obeyed fairly quickly. He then picked the panties up, going to put them on the nightstand, but Sinclair took them from him, setting them aside on the bed instead. "Turn around." Ryan obeyed and Sinclair reached under the sheet, locating easily the blindfold stashed there and tying it in place over Ryan's eyes. "The first thing we're gonna learn all about is consequences for our actions." Sinclair informed sweetly, picking up the discarded panties and admiring the wet spot from Ryan's arousal. "Open your mouth, Andy."

After a brief hesitation, Ryan obeyed and Sinclair stuffed the panties in rather more roughly than he would have if Ryan would've obeyed faster. Ryan gagged lightly in surprise and before he could gag again in disgust or entertain the idea of spitting the panties out, Sinclair was slipping a bar gag into his mouth and fastening it around his head. Next Sinclair fit a cockring around the base of Ryan's still rather hard cock and flicked the tip meanly, grinning when Ryan jolted. "Turn around, Andy." This time Ryan didn't hesitate, quickly turning his back to Sinclair.

"Atta boy!" Sinclair said happily, tossing aside the sheet covering his toys and grabbing a length of rope. "You're learnin' already." Taking Ryan's arms, Sinclair made him fold them behind his back and coiled the rope around them expertly, tying knots here and there to secure it and ending it with a bow in the middle. "Spread your legs now." Ryan began to spread his legs apart slowly, his body trembling lightly in what Sinclair could only imagine was a right cocktail of unpleasant emotions.

Grabbing a spreader bar from the dwindling pile, Sinclair cuffed both of Ryan's ankles and extended the bar as far as it would go. Thoroughly off-balance now, Ryan began to topple forward with a muffled sound and Sinclair simply let him fall, humming lightly once he was face-down on the mattress again. After admiring the view for a bit, Sinclair picked up a riding crop from the bed and ran the flared leather tip teasingly up Ryan's thigh. "Time for some good old-fashioned discipline." Sinclair purred lowly, pulling the crop back and bringing it down right on Ryan's exposed testicles.

Off to the side, Fontaine swore quietly at the sound Ryan made as his balls were whipped. He quickly decided as the crop came down again and Ryan jolted and started squirming that trying to control himself wasn't going to work and freed his cock. Unfortunately Sinclair had told both him and Jack that Jack had to be present enough to take part in the second stage of Ryan's punishment so he couldn't get his boy over to choke on him. Still, the show Sinclair was putting on was well worth having to take care of his erection by himself.

After ten solid slaps to his balls and trapped dick, Sinclair switched to Ryan's ass and thighs and gave each side ten alternating strikes. By then he could tell Ryan was crying, his whole body trembling and the occasional pathetic, choked sound escaping him. "Now that we've got a solid understanding of consequences, or I hope we do, we can move on to what you need to work on." Sinclair set the crop aside and looked to Jack, who was watching the whole display with a mix of curiosity and arousal. "Butterfly, would you be a sweetheart and remove Andy's gag?"

Nodding, Jack reached over and undid Ryan's gag, taking it from his slack mouth and setting it aside. Sinclair seemed to be waiting for something and he hummed when Ryan simply laid there. "You can spit those panties out now, Andy." He informed, watching as Ryan did just that and taking the soaked panties from the bed. Sinclair dropped them on the floor and reached over to gently stroke Ryan's hair. "What a good boy waitin' 'til you were told to spit those out. There might just be hope for you yet." Ryan wisely didn't respond, simply working hard to stifle the sounds of his crying and trying, trying so hard and failing completely, to not enjoy Sinclair's comforting fingers combing through his hair.

"Now, Andy, I want you to consider the thrashin' I just gave you and tell me if you think it's worth another round to continue bein' unpleasant to my darlin' Jackie." Sinclair demanded, grinning more darkly than he'd really meant to within Jack's line of sight when Ryan actually whimpered.

"No." Ryan croaked, flinching when Sinclair pressed his palms flat to his abused cheeks.

"No, what, Andy? Be specific, now." Sinclair purred, his voice deceptively sweet.

"It's not worth it." Ryan breathed quickly, letting out a shuddering breath of relief when Sinclair removed his hands.

"Keep that in mind." Sinclair said ominously, reaching up to remove Ryan's blindfold and moving his head so he was facing Jack. "Now, I'll give you a moment to compose yourself, but then I think you know what I want from you."

After taking a moment to breathe and collect himself, Ryan looked up and caught Jack's eyes. "I'm sorry for how I've treated you, Jack." He practically whispered hoping against hope that his voice was sincere enough to satisfy Sinclair and Jack. Ryan wasn't entirely sure if he really was sorry or if he was just broken, he just knew he wanted Sinclair and Jack to believe he was.

"Wow." Jack muttered, tilting his head slightly and staring at Ryan dispassionately. "I _almost_ believed that."

Flinching hard, Ryan looked away, squirming a little against his bonds and realizing with a sudden rush of horror that he was still fairly hard even after everything. Sinclair was saying something but Ryan wasn't sure what or even to who, as he was now too busy panicking internally. Had he enjoyed that? Had he really enjoyed being punished and humiliated enough to stay hard? A sharp smack to his balls caused him to cry out in pain and surprise and come back to himself.

"Welcome back, Andy." Sinclair teased, slowly running his crop up and down Ryan's thighs. "Now, as I was askin', do you think Andy here needs another lesson, butterfly?"

Humming, Jack looked down at Ryan and was surprised when he actually met his eyes again, looking nervous and pleading. "Huh." Jack muttered, brow furrowing a bit as he felt a twinge of sympathy for Ryan. This man had tried to destroy him and had treated him like shit everytime he'd seen him since then, but just then, all he looked like was a broken man and Jack actually felt a little bad for him. "I-- no." Jack said after a bit, looking away from Ryan as he said it and keeping his gaze averted even as he heard Ryan's breath catch. "I think he gets it."

Suddenly sensing that Jack wasn't enjoying himself anymore, Sinclair set the crop aside and immediately went to the younger man. "Hey." He cooed gently, cupping Jack's cheeks and making him look up. "Why the long face, butterfly?"

Standing, Jack pulled Sinclair into a hug and lowered his voice so Ryan wouldn't hear him. "I don't really think he's sorry, but I feel weirdly bad for him." He whispered, burying his face in Sinclair's neck when the older man squeezed him tightly.

"You wanna be done here, then?" Sinclair asked gently, voice quiet enough that only Jack heard him. He smiled when Jack nodded against his neck and gave him another tight squeeze. "Alright, butterfly. Why don't you go help your Daddy out over there while I finish up here?"

"Are you sure?" Jack asked, pulling away to look at Sinclair and smiling gratefully when he nodded. "Thanks, Papa." He murmured happily, pecking Sinclair's lips and practically gravitating to between Fontaine's legs.

For his part, Fontaine had been slowly stroking himself through everything but had stopped as Jack had lost his mood. Now he gently cupped Jack's face before Jack could take over where he'd left off. "You alright, baby doll?" He asked gently, smiling softly as Jack visibly melted a little at the nickname.

"Yes, Daddy." Jack said softly, leaning up on his knees to peck Fontaine's lips. "I guess I'm just not as into this as I usually am."

Searching Jack's face for a bit, Fontaine decided not to press the issue and instead smirked down at Jack. "Bet I know what'll make you feel better." Jack smiled like a child who'd just been told they can open a Christmas present early and Fontaine groaned softly as he eagerly took him to the root in one go. He tangled one hand in Jack's hair and, even as tempting as it was to watch his boy work, turned his attention back to Sinclair.

"You must've really been treatin' my boy badly for him to not believe you're sorry even after that rather convincin' apology." Sinclair hummed to Ryan, running his crop teasingly along his ass and balls and drinking in his quivering form. "Luckily for you, my mama raised a forgivin' man, so I'm gonna give you a chance to prove how sorry you are even though I don't rightly think you deserve it." Sinclair started nudging Ryan's abused balls with the crop as he spoke, grinning broadly at how tense Ryan was. "I'll be keepin' an eye on the way you treat Jackie from now on and I'll be listenin' too. If I catch wind of anythin' short of civil obedience, the thrashin' I gave you earlier'll seem like nothin' more than a little playful fun between lovers, you understand?"

"Yes." Ryan answered quickly, nodding his head as well and not even caring that his voice was trembling as badly as his body was. "I understand. I'll be good."

" _Fuck._ " Fontaine breathed, pressing Jack's head down and bucking up as he came. Ryan's broken tone mixed with how worked up he'd been getting since the beginning of all this culminated into a powerful orgasm when those words left the older man's mouth.

Chuckling softly at how much Fontaine was enjoying himself, Sinclair set the crop aside and bent to remove the spreader bar from Ryan's legs. He gave Ryan some time to make a mistake and hummed happily when Ryan stayed bent over and spread out for him. "You can close your legs now, Andy." Sinclair said, giving Ryan a moment to do so before he helped him into a shaky standing position and untied his hands. When Ryan kept them there folded behind his back even once they were free, Sinclair chuckled softly. "Not takin' any risks, are we? I might just have to let Franky reward you if you keep this up." He said lightly, tapping Ryan's arms gently. "Relax."

Pulling his arms around to himself, Ryan indulged in the small comfort of rubbing some feeling back into them. He'd long since decided that Sinclair was officially the worst part of his hell and tried not to get distracted thinking about whether or not he'd really been so horrible in his life to deserve all this. Then Sinclair was guiding him to turn around with that horribly gentle touch of his and Ryan tried hard to focus on just making this end without getting hurt any more. He just needed to hold on long enough to get rid of his tormentors. He could fall apart once he was alone.

"Well, look at that." Sinclair said, his tone amused as he caught sight of Ryan's cock. It wasn't straining or anything, but it was definitely fully erect. "I guess Franky was right about you enjoyin' your punishments. Still, it seems like you absorbed your lesson, so I suppose I'm not cross." Reaching down, Sinclair released Ryan from the cockring and set it down with the other toys he needed to take back to the bedroom with him. Finally, Sinclair swiped his thumb over the head of Ryan's cock to collect what little fluids hadn't been lost to the bedsheet and then smeared it over Ryan's bottom lip in a mockery of an affectionate brush. "Think of me when you crack and end up takin' care of that later, hon." He whispered to Ryan, shooting his a wink before walking over to Fontaine and Jack.

"Finished already?" Fontaine teased, still holding Jack in place on his cock and enjoying the unpleasant little tingles of oversensitive pleasure-pain he got with every gentle swipe of Jack's tongue or convulsion of his throat.

"'Fraid so." Sinclair teased back, smiling fondly down at Jack. "While I hate to deprive you of your cock-warmer, I did intend on enlistin' Jackie's help to carry my toys back to the room."

Scoffing playfully, Fontaine raised an eyebrow at Sinclair. " **I** carried all those in here by myself, why can't you carry 'em all back?"

"Why should I when I have Jack to help me?" Sinclair countered, smiling more when Fontaine laughed and pulled him in for a kiss, finally letting Jack come up for air while he was at it. "Well, you heard the man, doll. Unless you ain't had your fun, we're packin' up."

Coughing lightly to help get his voice past his battered throat, Jack shook his head. "I'm good." He informed, tucking Fontaine away gingerly before standing to collect all of Sinclair's toys. He didn't even spare Ryan a glance while he was there, simply scooping everything up into his arms and then heading for the door behind his husbands.

No sound had ever been more beautiful to Ryan than the sound of the door to his cell closing. He let out a shuddering breath and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. As a fresh wave of tears found him, Ryan turned and climbed further into the bed, managing to curl up in the comforter there before he broke down fully into pitiful sobs. He could only be happy no one else was around to hear him.

Several hours later, Ryan had managed to clean himself up and get a few hours of sleep. He'd been woken up by a food delivery and it had been maybe an hour since he'd finished eating when the door to his cell opened again, making him flinch despite himself. He chanced a look up and was too relieved to see Fontaine approaching him to even be annoyed at his relief.

"You did surprisin'ly good today, Ryan." Fontaine said, coming over to the bed and setting a box of cigars on the nightstand. "Name a reward. Anythin' you want."

"Anything?" Ryan asked quietly, unsure if this was some sort of trick and really not wanting to find out the hard way if it was.

"Well, within reason, of course." Fontaine said, smirking down at his toy. "Obviously I ain't gonna letcha have a gun or Adam or anythin' like that."

Nodding slowly as he waited for a catch, Ryan looked away and took a moment to think about what he wanted. A month ago he would've told Fontaine where he could stick his reward, would've told him he wasn't some animal he could trick into good behaviour with praise and treats. A month ago, he might've even believed the words if they'd come out of his mouth. That was a month ago, though, and it was becoming more and more obvious with every spark of frustrating joy he got when he did something right that he was, in fact, succumbing to his conditioning. "A notebook. Or journal." Ryan said at last, looking to Fontaine again. "Something I can record my thoughts in."

After a moment of thinking over any potential consequences of granting Ryan's request and only coming up with negligible ones, Fontaine nodded. "Alright. A journal it is." He said, reaching out and gently cupping Ryan's jaw in order to tilt his face up more. Fontaine felt Ryan's breath catch and noted how he held it, but he simply kept Ryan's gaze for a bit and then gently brushed his thumb over his jaw before letting him go and leaving the room.

Releasing the breath he'd held, Ryan watched Fontaine go with a frown on his face. What was that? Why had it felt so-- good? Clenching his jaw, Ryan combed a hand through his hair and pulled hard. He was losing it. He was losing his will to fight what good feelings he could get, especially after what had happened not really that long ago. Fontaine was winning. No, Ryan realized with a sigh, falling back onto the bed and staring forlornly up at the ceiling, Fontaine had won, he'd already lost. He'd lost the moment he'd been tricked into inviting Fontaine down to Rapture.

Later on, Ryan was attempting to recapture some sense of humanity by indulging in one of the cigars Fontaine had left him and thumbing through a book he'd read before, really only stopping to read his favorite parts. He was so engrossed in not thinking about his misery that he didn't even hear the door open. He didn't realize he wasn't alone anymore until a small stack of notebooks and a tin landed on the book he had in his lap, startling him terribly thanks to his frayed nerves. Looking up, Ryan couldn't help by flinch backwards a bit at the fact that Jack had been sent in to deliver his reward.

Simply glaring down at Ryan as he eyed him warily, Jack motioned to the notebooks. "Frank asked me to give those to you." He informed blankly, turning to leave immediately after but freezing with his hand halfway to the doorknob when Ryan actually spoke to him.

"Thank you."

Hesitating as he tried to decide if he'd imagined Ryan's quiet voice _thanking_ him, Jack slowly turned to look at the older man, an uncertain expression on his face. "What?"

"Thank you, Jack" Ryan repeated, looking away from the hulking man near the door and swallowing softly. "For delivering these."

Eyes widening, Jack was sure now he was hearing things. Or having a stroke. Was he capable of having a stroke? Maybe Ryan was having a stroke. That certainly seemed more likely. "Did you-- did you actually _learn_ something today?" Jack asked, watching with much less satisfaction than usual as Ryan flinched at his words.

"I suppose I deserve that." Ryan admitted quietly, still not looking at Jack.

Hesitating for a moment as Ryan set the stack of books on his lap aside and began to sift through the various writing tools inside the tin, Jack slowly walked back over to the bed and sat down on the foot. Ryan immediately froze and nervously looked up at him but Jack looked away before their eyes could meet. "So--" He paused, feeling stupid and seriously considering just leaving before taking a deep breath and trying again. "So, do you have a reason for why you hate me the most?" Jack asked quietly, not sure what to expect but sure he wouldn't get an answer.

Blinking in surprise at the sheer _vulnerability_ in Jack's voice, Ryan looked away again. "I was angry." He admitted quietly, setting the tin aside as well and folding his hands in his lap. "Angry that my own son was being used against me to take my city and angrier still that you were so happy to be doing it. I--" Sighing softly, Ryan glanced up at Jack but quickly looked away again when he saw he was looking at him. "I really am sorry for how I've treated you, you know? I realize I've been unfairly cruel to you."

"Only took you like a month of being tortured." Jack muttered, sighing and standing. "But at least I finally have my answer." Looking at Ryan and actually catching his eyes this time, Jack offered him a frown. "We'll see if you're still sorry once you've healed and it's just me and Frank visiting you." He left before Ryan could say anything, though he doubted Ryan _would_ say anything, and decided to return to Fontaine's office where his husbands were busy trying to hack into Lamb's cameras. He didn't understand how hacking worked, but he could always make drinks and offer blowjobs whenever Fontaine or Sinclair got frustrated.

Smiling to himself, Jack put Ryan out of his mind. Hopefully he wouldn't see him again before he had to leave to deal with Lamb and hopefully by then, he could go back to comfortably hating him instead of feeling uncertain of his feelings. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! This one was a doozy! I can't wait to get Jack back down to the BioShock 2 areas!


	22. Into the Belly of Fontaine Futuristics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bit of fun with Sinclair, Jack finally gets the green light to go fuck up Lamb and the Rapture Family once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Specific Characters: Augustus Sinclair, Jack Fontaine, Frank Fontaine, Gilbert Alexander/Alex the Great, Reggie, Sophia Lamb
> 
> Chapter Specific Relationships: Jack/Sinclair
> 
> Chapter Specific Tags/Warnings: Men in Lingerie, Praise Kink, Feminization, Crossdressing, Boot Worship, Worship, Idolatry, Oral Sex, Sadism, Masochism, Daddy Kink, Blood, Violence, Injuries

It had been about a week since Fontaine had started trying to hack into the areas of Rapture controlled by Lamb. Since then, Fontaine, Jack, and Sinclair had visited Ryan exactly once and Jack had gone on several missions to help Fontaine's teams clear out problem areas they came across while on the hunt for wonderments. Fontaine rarely allowed company while he worked as he was quite irritable while busy so Sinclair had been positively beside himself with boredom. Normally he enjoyed a good bit of lounging, and he had the first few days, but he was starting to get antsy.

Luckily, Jack hadn't been called in to do anything yet, so Sinclair was taking advantage of having his boy around. "A little tighter, butterfly, I ain't made'a glass." Sinclair instructed, motioning with his hand when he wanted Jack to stop tightening his corset and sighing lightly once it was tied off and secure. He'd felt like dressing up and having a little fun and Jack was an amazing assistant, strong enough to help Sinclair squeeze into anything he wanted but careful enough that he never got him caught in any of his zippers or snaps.

"You look so beautiful, Papa." Jack sighed reverently as he walked around Sinclair and took in the full view of him in his red corset and panties. The only thing missing was the boots. Jack hoped Sinclair was going to put on some boots. He had heels too and sometimes he wore those instead, but Jack really liked the boots.

"I appreciate you sayin' so, butterfly." Sinclair hummed happily, walking over to the closet and trying not to smile when he heard Jack's breath catch as he pulled out a pair of red latex thigh-highs. He walked back over to the bed and sat down, setting the boots on the floor beside himself and raising his right leg. "Mind givin' me a hand with these too?"

Practically lighting up in excitement, Jack knelt on one knee before Sinclair and helped him get his boots on. He put each boot on and zipped it up as much as he could with Sinclair still sitting on the bed but before he could ask Sinclair to stand so he could zip them the rest of the way, Sinclair did just that, instantly turning to bend over and giving Jack a very tempting view of his ample ass all clad in red silk and black lace. Biting his lip, Jack resisted said temptation and simply finished zipping his Papa's boots up. He then reluctantly removed his hands and stood, feeling a little better when Sinclair straightened up and turned to him with a proud smile.

While Fontaine was a wild animal who took sex whenever he could get it and generally adored when he or Jack took the initiative, Sinclair had been teaching Jack not to get handsy with him when he was dressed up without permission. Jack could still initiate otherwise, of course, Sinclair appreciated feeling wanted, after all, but he'd always loved controlling his partners and even though Jack sometimes got pouty at not being able to touch him, Sinclair knew he enjoyed being controlled.

"What do you think, butterfly?" Sinclair asked, doing a slow spin before plopping back down on the bed and crossing one of his legs over the other at the knee. "Are the boots too much?" He already knew the answer, of course. He knew Jack loved his boots as much as Fontaine did, but he was in the mood to be praised and Jack was such a sincere little thing.

"Definitely not." Jack replied, shaking his head fervently and looking down at Sinclair's boots. "I love them." He said, trailing his eyes slowly up Sinclair's leg. "And red looks really good on you." He added, eyes suddenly snapping to Sinclair's face and a frown playing his lips when the older man hummed in displeasure.

"I dunno." Sinclair drawled, leaning back and leisurely swaying his leg a bit. He barely managed to hold back a smirk at the way Jack's attention was drawn back to it. "How do I know for sure you ain't just sayin' that?"

Eyes lighting up as he realized, or he hoped he realized, what Sinclair was trying to goad him into doing, Jack dropped to his knees before Sinclair and reverently took the top foot into his hands. "Let me show you, Mistress." He said softly, delighted when Sinclair's eyes showed his pride and arousal even as his face remained passive.

"I don't know if I quite like your tone, butterfly." Sinclair hummed, taking his foot from Jack's hands and pressing the bottom of the toe to his forehead. "Why don't you try again?" He suggested, pressing and smirking when Jack allowed himself to be tipped backwards onto his ass. Sinclair knew as well as Fontaine did that Jack didn't have to submit to any physical cue they ever gave him, but it tickled him endlessly that he did anyway; that he allowed himself to be tipped over and pinned down and flung about.

Eyes burning with arousal at Sinclair's small display of dominance, Jack slowly got back to his knees, keeping eye-contact with the smaller man the whole time, and gently took his foot again. He leaned forward and gave the toe a small kiss before moving one of his hands a little further up to Sinclair's calf and kneading lightly. "May I please show you how much I like your boots, Mistress?"

"That's better." Sinclair praised lightly, rotating his foot in Jack's grip and sighing lightly as though he was being inconvenienced. "Fine. But you'd better make it good, butterfly. Mistress isn't in a patient mood today."

Biting back a moan at the veiled threat, playful or not, Jack immediately got to work. He peppered the top of Sinclair's booted foot with small kisses and then dragged his tongue from the tip to the top of Sinclair's ankle. Jack had never done this before, but he'd been regaled with more than one tale of Sinclair having his playmates worship his boots in the past and while Jack had yet to overtly say he wanted to try it, the stories had been _physically stirring_ , which Sinclair had apparently noticed.

Leaning back a bit, Jack lifted Sinclair's leg a little higher, careful not to lift it too far and make Sinclair uncomfortable, and slid the tall heel of the boot into his mouth. Sinclair's breath caught and Jack barely managed to keep himself from smiling proudly. He spent a bit of time sucking on the heel before he pulled away with a light _pop_ and lowered Sinclair's foot to the floor. Jack then lowered himself down as well, head down, ass up, and began to kiss a slow, wet line from the tip of Sinclair's boot to the very top on his thigh, stopping whenever it suited him to veer off in another direction for a bit or pay one spot in particular special attention on the way up.

While Sinclair couldn't feel more than a slight pressure from Jack's attention, the view of him grovelling at his feet and worshiping him was definitely doing it for him. When Jack finally reached the top of his first boot, Sinclair swept his other leg over to catch Jack under the chin with the toe of the other boot and smirked down at Jack when he froze and looked up at him with lust burning hot in his pretty green eyes. "Not bad, butterfly, but I think you'd better get movin' on the other one before I get bored." He drawled, carefully keeping himself from smiling adoringly as Jack all but scrambled back up to his knees to give his neglected boot the same treatment as the first.

It was about the time when Jack had reached his other knee that something dawned on Sinclair and he hummed lightly at the thought of it. "Y'know," He drawled, taking the boot Jack was working on from him in order to cross it and grinning when Jack followed it and kept working even at the new, somewhat awkward angle, "all things considered, I suppose I'm really more your Goddess than your Mistress."

Unable to stifle it as Sinclair's words knocked the wind out of him, Jack moaned deeply. He glanced up almost poutily at Sinclair when he chuckled at his reaction but carried on with his worship quickly, still wanting to do a good job for his Papa even though he was being unfair and using his idolizing nature against him. He'd be lying if he said he didn't like how well Sinclair in particular had taken to that, after all. Which wasn't to say Fontaine didn't adore being worshiped like a god, just that Sinclair seemed especially pleased by it.

"You like that, don't you, butterfly?" Sinclair teased, knowing full well that Jack did. If their honeymoon had taught him anything it was that Jack definitely had a thing for likening Fontaine and apparently Sinclair himself to gods. It was honestly equal parts oddly cute and weirdly sexy. "You wanna be your Goddess' slutty little prophet?"

"Yes, Goddess, I wanna be your slutty little prophet." Jack breathed, finally reaching the top of Sinclair's other boot and moving to sit back on his knees again. He looked up at Sinclair almost desperately and couldn't help but flush when Sinclair chuckled at him.

"What a picture you make, butterfly." He hummed, tilting his head slightly and eyeing Jack. "So wantin'. What for, hm? Do you even know what you want or would you just be happy with anythin'?" Sinclair teased, grinning when Jack looked embarrassed.

"I know I want you, Goddess." Jack practically whispered, unable to suppress a shiver when Sinclair's eyes darkened in arousal.

"C'mere, then." Sinclair commanded, uncrossing his legs and spreading them. "Come worship somethin' that can actually appreciate that sinful mouth o' yours." Jack came forward eagerly and quickly freed Sinclair from his panties, the older man letting out a sigh of pleasure as Jack pulled his foreskin back gently and ran his hot tongue over the exposed head. "Atta boy. Just like that." He sighed happily, reaching down to stroke Jack's hair and smiling fondly when he closed his eyes in pleasure.

Just as Jack was taking the head into his mouth, Fontaine came into the room, stopping instantly at the sight before him and letting out a quiet _fuck_. That caught Sinclair's attention and he looked over with a grin, Jack far too busy with his task of slowly swallowing him whole to notice they weren't alone just yet. "Hey there, Franky." Sinclair greeted, glancing down to see Jack had opened his eyes upon hearing Fontaine's name even as he didn't stop working Sinclair's cock into his throat. "Takin' a break?"

"I finally got in." Fontaine replied, coming over to the bed and sitting beside Sinclair sideways so he could watch Jack swallowing their husband down like he was made for it. "Got it locked and everythin' so she can't kick me back out."

"Well, ain't that just fantastic news?" Sinclair said happily, running his fingers lightly through Jack's hair to coax an opinion on the matter out of him. Jack hummed happily before pulling away with a pointed suck to Sinclair's sensitive head, which dragged a surprised moan out of the older man.

"Does that mean I'll be moving out soon?" Jack asked, going right back to work once the words were out of his mouth.

"Soon as you're finished with your meal." Fontaine replied, laughing softly when Jack closed his eyes and started to bob his head, looking decidedly pleased at getting to finish before he had to leave. "The cameras weren't the only thing I managed to crack, either. I also got full access to the old radio towers down that way, so I should be able to talk to you whenever you need me, doll." He added, getting a creased glance from Jack, since he couldn't really smile with his mouth full, and a pleased hum.

" _Lord._ " Sinclair breathed, bucking his hips lightly. "It's incredible what you manage to do with your tongue even while you're bein' talked to, butterfly."

"Thank you, Goddess." Jack breathed lightly, pulling away only long enough to breathe those words out before diving back in.

"Goddess, huh?" Fontaine asked, grinning at Sinclair and getting a light shrug from the older man.

"It seemed fittin' and Jacky here adores it." Sinclair replied, lightly tugging on Jack's hair as he looked down fondly at him. "Our slutty little prophet." He hummed, gasping as Jack moaned and accidentally tangling his fist in Jack's hair _hard_. That only made Jack moan again and Sinclair's hips bucked as he came, the build-up with his boots mixed with Jack's positively sinful tongue and finally topped off with the added vibrations of his moans all coming together to drive him right over the edge.

Once Jack finished swallowing down Sinclair's load and cleaning up his cock, he pulled away and gingerly tucked him back in his panties. "Thank you for allowing me to worship you, Goddess." He breathed, gently rubbing Sinclair's inner thighs as he caught his breath.

Laughing breathlessly, Sinclair shot Jack a fond smile. "I love you, butterfly."

Beaming, Jack straightened up, not really having to stretch that far even with being on his knees and Sinclair being on the bed to wrap his arms around Sinclair's waist. "I love you too, Papa." He replied happily, giving Sinclair a gentle squeeze before standing and heading over to the closet to get some work clothes.

"Not gonna do anythin' 'bout that tent you're pitchin'?" Fontaine asked in amusement, watching Jack get dressed despite his straining erection.

"I can take care of it on the bathysphere over." Jack replied, pulling a bloodstained pair of jeans on and pressing himself down so he could zip them up. It hurt a little, but he could take it; he was too excited to go smite the heretics in Lamb's territory to worry about a little pain.

"That's my boy." Fontaine said proudly, standing and pulling Jack into a deep kiss as he smiled happily at him and tugged a bloodstained undershirt on. Once he broke the kiss, he cupped Jack's cheek and looked into his eyes. "You be careful down there, baby doll, you hear me? I know you're tough, but if gettin' into those cameras was anythin' to go by, it ain't gonna be a cakewalk dealin' with Lamb."

"I will, Daddy, I promise." Jack replied, cupping Fontaine's hand and kissing his palm lovingly. "And I'll take my backpack and I'll radio in if I need anything, no matter what it is."

Smiling proudly, Fontaine leaned in and split Jack's bottom lip with a quick bite, which earned him a quiet gasp from Jack. "Atta boy." He praised lightly, letting Jack go and settling back on the bed as he fished out a slightly tattered button-up and put it on.

As he buttoned, Jack leaned over to give Sinclair another kiss after swiping his tongue over his lip to wipe up the excess blood. "See you soon, Papa."

"See you soon, butterfly." Sinclair replied, smiling at Jack even as he found himself oddly anxious. He'd lived in Lamb's territory for a long time, after all, and he knew what it was like. Jack could handle himself, of course, but there was still whoever the _Daughter of the People_ was to deal with and judging by the whispered tones he'd only ever heard her discussed in, she wasn't someone to be reckoned with lightly. The odds were in Jack's favor, he would most likely be just fine, but, try as he might, Sinclair couldn't logic away his worry.

Oblivious to Sinclair's anxiety, Jack gave Fontaine another kiss as well. "See you soon, Daddy."

"Hold you to it, doll." Fontaine replied, giving Jack a pop on the ass as he turned to leave and watching him go before turning back to Sinclair. "Sphere ride's gonna take awhile." He mentioned, crawling over to Sinclair and nibbling gently on the side of his neck. "An' I been awful stressed lately with work."

Sighing dramatically, Sinclair arched an eyebrow at Fontaine. "I _suppose_ I could help you out, Franky, but I **have** already had mine so you'd better remember I'm doin' this for your benefit and be on your very best behaviour."

Grinning triumphantly, Fontaine rolled onto his back and put his hands above his head in an optimal position to be handcuffed. "You have my word, Mistress." He purred, grinning all the more when Sinclair looked pleased and sauntered over to the closet. When he returned with a pair of leather handcuffs and the very same riding crop he'd used on Ryan the one time they'd seen eachother, Fontaine couldn't help but groan. He could already feel his stress leaving him and he wasn't even tied down yet.

Meanwhile, Jack made quick work of the walk to the bathysphere station in Olympus Heights and was on his way to the previously agreed upon destination of the not-so-secret lab at the bottom of Fontaine Futuristics in no time. The actual Futuristics building was only accessible by foot, but the lab could be accessed both from the Futuristics building and via an airlock that Fontaine had only ever used to dispose of problem employees and experiments gone wrong. The original plan had been to just have Jack hoof it over to Lamb's territory, Plasmids blazing, but Sinclair had suggested a sneakier approach, _just in case_ , and so he was to infiltrate her territory from the Futuristics building and work his way to Lamb from there.

Jack didn't mind the sneakier approach even if he overwhelmingly preferred the idea of going in Plasmids blazing and seeing what Lamb's heretics could really do. Of course, this way, the ride was going to be long and Jack was going to have an awful lot of idle time which he definitely didn't care for. He supposed it was a good thing that Sinclair had given him something to do for the ride over as he sprawled out on the seats and finally got to work relieving the pressure in his pants.

Twenty minutes and Jack's very first unassisted orgasm later, and the bathysphere was carefully maneuvering into the airlock that would let Jack into the Fontaine Futuristics lab. As the water drained and the bathysphere lowered to the muddy floor, Jack checked his gear one last time. Backpack full of Eve hypos, a bit of extra ammo for the one gun he'd brought, and med-kits, check. His one gun, shotgun, fully loaded, check. Radio, tuned into Fontaine's frequency and turned up to not-too-loud, check. Belt with wrench, hooks, and even more Eve hypos, check. Taking a deep breath of ocean-scented air after opening the bathysphere door, Jack stepped out into the airlock and passed through the door into Fontaine Futuristics.

The moment the door closed behind him and the lights from the bathysphere could no longer reach inside the room, Jack was bathed in complete darkness. Frowning a bit, Jack lit up his left arm with Electro Bolt and used it for light as he pressed on. He needed to find an elevator that would take him up into Fontaine's old labs and, if the whispers Sinclair had hear were true, the heart of Lamb's base of operations. As Jack walked, his scuffed-up work boots squelched on the muck-caked floor and the light from Electro Bolt lit up lots of strange red plants in the room.

Ducking under a large rock the hung in the in the only path from the room, Jack found a door and passed through. It was still dark but now Electro Bolt was proving much less helpful which told Jack he was in a much larger room, further proved by how his steps now echoed slightly despite his boots being caked in muck from the other room. Continuing forward slowly, Jack found some consoles that looked functional despite being rather dirty and tried flipping the switch labeled "central lights" only for it to click loudly and move back into place.

Humming softly, Jack looked around and spotted some sparking a little ways away. He couldn't tell where it was coming from so he couldn't shoot the problem with Elector Bolt. Probably better to actually investigate it first, anyway, he supposed. Walking past a Vita-Chamber, Jack made his way down some stairs and looked around again, hearing sparking before he finally caught sight of the little yellow flashes and making his way over to a circuit breaker. Using the hand sparked up with Electro Bolt so he wouldn't get shocked, Jack pulled the circuit breaker and frowned when nothing happened aside from the sparks ceasing.

As he pondered his options, Jack heard more sparking further away and pushed on, walking past a massive tank of water and a Gatherer's Garden. He still couldn't see any sparks even past the tank but Jack could hear them, so he followed his ears over a large exhaust vent that appeared to have fallen from the ceiling and finally caught sight of the circuit breaker he needed. Flipping that one as well, Jack heard a hum from the console and made his way up some different stairs and past a Circus of Values to get back to it. He hit the switch again and the lights flashed on.

In that exact moment, a massive form inside the tank recoiled, a very human-sounding shriek coming from it as it did so. Jack's eyes widened and he leaned over the console to try and get a closer look, but the massive thing was pressed up against the back of the tank and surrounded by murky reddish water which made it very hard to see. Hopping over the consoles and the railing behind them now that he could see it was safe to do so, Jack walked up to the tank and tried to peer past the murky water, finding his luck no better even up close.

"I see you out there, intruder! Doctor Lamb warned me to keep an eye out for **you**!" The creature in the tank yelled, its voice oddly human and coming from intercoms around the room. "You won't get out of here alive, you know! I've got all the personnel of Fontaine Futuristics at my disposal! Security! Escort this intruder from the premises!" Before Jack could respond, or even react, really, he heard doors opening in the distance and then the tell-tale roars of Big Daddies. They sounded-- off though.

The reason why became somewhat clearer when one of the Big Daddies ran up some stairs to Jack's left and he realized he'd never seen this model type before. Diving to the side just as the Big Daddy was about to reach him, this model being alot faster than any he'd fought before, Jack rolled to his feet in time to see the one that had been running at him smack into the other one he'd heard enter the room. They both instantly turned their attention back to Jack and he couldn't help but grin. _This_ was going to be fun.

One Big Daddy drew a massive shotgun which had been previously holstered on his back and the other lit his fists up with Incinerate. Jack's eyes widened a bit as he realized these Daddies were smarter than the average roar-and-charge Daddies he was used to fighting. Switching quickly to Telekinesis, Jack focused on the fireballs that started flying at him but when he heard the first crack from the shotgun, he tried running away from the spray of bullets. That proved impossible as the spray of the massive shotgun was appropriately huge and Jack was hit with a few of the pellets. Funnily enough, they didn't hurt much, bursting into a weird glowing powder-like substance on impact.

Tossing one of his caught fireballs at the Daddy with the shotgun as he took aim again, Jack quickly tried to brush the weird residue that was stuck to him off only for it to spread. Then it got warm and sparked a bit, lighting up and burning holes in his clothes almost instantly. Eyes widening more, Jack focused on redirecting the fireballs to the Daddy with the shotgun, his strategy working out well enough until the one shooting the fireballs realized Jack was using his weapon against him and switched to a huge gun Jack had never seen before.

Though the weird shotgun pellets were burning him, and they did hurt a bit, they weren't really doing much damage to his skin, so Jack tried to ignore them in favor of getting out of range of the shotgun before the Big Daddy wielding it extinguished. That proved a challenge when that big gun turned out to be a harpoon of sorts and a powerful metal spear pierced Jack's leg, sending him tumbling into a pillar he'd been just about to pass up. Crying out in pain, Jack looked down at his leg in shock and then back up at the Big Daddy, catching the next spear with Telekinesis when it came whizzing towards his face and piercing the Big Daddy's glowing red "eye" with it.

The Big Daddy roared in pain and the one with the shotgun quickly stepped forward, showering Jack in another spray of weird glowing buckshot. This time Jack tried dousing himself with a quick shot of Winter Blast and that seemed to do the trick, the buck hissing softly and ceasing its glowing. Huffing out a laugh, Jack reached down and ripped the spear from his leg with another shout of pain, icing over the wound for the time being while he had Winter Blast out so he could still use the leg.

Blocking another blast from the shotgun with Winter Blast and catching yet another spear in Telekinesis Jack threw the spear at the "eye" of the other Big Daddy and iced over both of his fists with massive, spiky balls before charging at the one he'd injured earlier. It tried to shoot at him, but Jack managed to duck under the spear aimed at his head and swung one icy fist at the spear still embedded in the Big Daddy's helmet. It howled in pain and Jack brought the other fist down on top of his helmet, crushing the metal down from the force and getting spattered with blood as the metal and ice worked together to crush the head under the helmet. Before he could turn his attention to the remaining Big Daddy, Jack was being grabbed by his shoulders and his face met a big metal forehead.

Stumbling back in surprise, Jack got rid of the ice on one hand to grip his bloody, crooked nose and laughed in disbelief when he pulled his hand back and saw the blood. "Holy shit." He breathed, ice vanishing from his other hand just in time to catch a massive fist before it could punch him in the temple. "I think you broke my nose." Jack said softly, looking up at the Big Daddy as he squeezed his fist hard enough that it started making cracking noises. To his surprise, the Big Daddy growled low and menacing at him and Jack couldn't help but laugh again.

Quickly grabbing the captured wrist with his other hand, Jack put all of his force into swinging the Big Daddy to the side. He was heavy, but Jack managed to get him off his feet and he threw the hulking thing at the glass tank in the center of the room, hoping to get a two-for-one and break the tank while also killing the Big Daddy. The Daddy hit the tank with a loud, vibrating **thud** , but the glass didn't so much as crack and the Big Daddy got up once he hit the ground, roaring and lighting up his hands with Electro Bolt.

Swearing quietly, Jack dove behind a pillar and took the momentary cover as a chance to inject himself with a Quik-Heal. When he felt the tingle in his nose, he reached up and straightened it out as best he could before it healed crooked. Jack didn't get much more time than that before the Big Daddy rounded the pillar he was hiding behind but instead of moving, Jack grabbed the massive beast with Telekinesis and yanked, fully intending to rip him in half. The canvas of the suit gave and the skin on his side did too, but Jack paused when he hit bones. **Big** bones.

Big Daddies didn't have bones. Jack had never seen one with bones. They only had skin and organs and such, but this one had bones. The Big Daddy was wailing in pain and thrashing in Jack's hold but couldn't quite get himself oriented enough to shock Jack. Curiosity driving him, Jack continued ripping, having to put a considerable amount of force into breaking the bones, but getting them broken nonetheless. When he dropped the two halves of dead Daddy on the floor, he examined the inside of the top half curiously, lifting the suit with the tip of his boot and finding a person inside. A big, decidedly spliced person, but still a person.

A quiet "fuck" from somewhere behind Jack made him whirl around, but before he could pinpoint the source, a fireball hit him in the face. The surprise and pain caused Jack to recoil, the movement made him slip in the blood of the nearby dead Big Daddy, and Jack ended up on his ass. Letting out a shuddering breath, Jack decided he needed to find whoever did that and rip them in half next. Getting up slowly, Jack carefully removed himself from the puddle of blood before taking a moment to wipe his face gingerly with the cleanest part of his sleeve. The skin was a little tender, but not burned, so he didn't need to heal again just yet.

Before Jack could get over to whereabouts he'd heard the quiet swear, the creature in the tank spoke up again, sounding decidedly angry. "I've alerted Dr. Lamb of your arrival, intruder! Whatever you're here for, you won't be getting it now!"

Deciding to ignore the creature for the moment, he'd get back to him and figure out how to get into that tank _after_ he found the Splicer that shot him, Jack pressed on and found some stairs leading down to "Pacification Chambers". Technically Jack needed "Holding Cells", but further on he could hear Splicers yelling, so he felt this was an understandable diversion from the plan. He was supposed to be exterminating Splicers while he worked his way to Lamb, after all.

Past a grimy little hall and through a door, Jack found two Splicers arguing. He didn't have any time to figure out what they were arguing about, though, as one of the parts of the red plants that were growing all over started to float up. Jack cocked his head curiously and the plant popped as though squeezed, coating the Splicers in goo. The yelling intensified and they started fighting eachother, grappling and still shouting as they tried to kill eachother.

As mildly amusing as the fight was, Jack was a man on a mission and didn't have time to let it reach a conclusion. Popping both Splicers with Telekinesis like that plant had been popped, Jack looked around the room and kept walking. He wasn't sure if that was something that plant could just _do_ , but, since none of the ones he'd passed had, he was fairly certain his mystery Splicer had done it. Passing by a pillar, Jack found himself caught in the red glow of a security camera and dodged back around the pillar when it trilled.

In the process of switching over to Electro Bolt, Jack noticed a room he might've otherwise passed up with a surprisingly sturdy-looking door blocking the entrance. Humming softly, Jack overloaded the camera and walked over to the door, jiggling the handle and feeling pretty certain that he'd found his attacker's hiding place when it was locked. Ramming himself into the door shoulder-first, Jack busted the door down and was immediately met with a fireball, this time to the chest.

Quickly extinguishing himself before his shirt, which was already spotted with burn-holes thanks to the shotgun blasts, could get more charred, Jack finally found his mystery Splicer. He was surprisingly normal-looking from what Jack could see in the low light from the Vita-Chamber in the corner of the otherwise dark, boarded-up room, but that didn't stop Jack from firing an icicle at him. The Splicer countered it with another fireball and tried to shoot Jack again only to hiss in pain and recoil into the corner he was pressed against. He was out of Eve. 

Grinning, Jack impaled the man's shoulder with a small, well-aimed icicle and walked over to him as he shouted in pain, kicking away the make-shift bed in between him and the Splicer. "I mean, did you even **see** what I did to those Big Daddies in the other room?" Jack asked, getting a sneer for his efforts and smiling a bit as the Splicer struggled against the icicle in his arm. He had spunk, that was for sure.

Deciding that fair was fair, Jack switched to Incinerate and took a step back. The Splicer's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something but didn't get anything out before Jack shot him in the face with a fireball. Due to the proximity, the force of it popped the Splicer's head, but it wasn't as though Jack wasn't already filthy so the extra blood and brain chunks didn't bother him any.

When the Vita-Chamber not that far away started to glow brighter than usual, it caught Jack's attention. He stepped over and watched curiously as a form quickly came into existence. It only took a couple of minutes for the form to be whole enough to be recognizable and Jack quickly looked over to the corner of the room where the body of the Splicer he'd just killed was indeed gone. Turning back to the Vita-Chamber, Jack narrowed his eyes and resolved to wait for him to be reborn.

Fontaine had told him to be careful in the older parts of Rapture because while the Vita-Chambers were all on one network and set up to revive whoever Fontaine deemed worthy, individual chambers could be removed from the network and set to only revive certain people, so Jack could never really be sure he'd get a second chance down here. This chamber, it seemed, was one of the ones set to revive certain people only and that made Jack very curious about who the man inside really was.

As the Vita-Chamber drained slowly and then hissed as the seal was broken, the doors started to open and the Splicer started to fall forward. He was barely awake after his rebirth and didn't quite seem to realize what was happening until it was too late and Jack had him in an improper, but effective, one-armed headlock. Grunting loudly as his freshly regained ability to breathe was very nearly cut off, the Splicer started to struggle but stopped quickly when Jack tightened his hold. Jack could feel the Splicer's hard swallow against his arm and loosened his hold again once he was still for a bit.

"Who are you?" Jack asked calmly, perfectly comfortable supporting the Splicer's weight with the arm around his mid-section while the other kept his breathing constricted.

"You're fuckin' fairy-godmother, the fuck's it matter to you?" The Splicer snarled, choking and bringing both hands up to uselessly claw at Jack's arm when he tightened his hold again. He had an accent very similar to Fontaine's and that only made Jack more curious. Unfortunately this Splicer also clearly had an attitude. Fortunately, Jack knew for certain he could kill him if he needed to make that strong a point and he'd just come right back.

"Wrong answer." Jack replied, loosening his grip and letting the Splicer's mid-section go just long enough to grab one of his hooks and press it into his belly threateningly. "Try again."

"Reggie." The man coughed, still clawing at Jack's arm to no avail. "My fuckin' name's Reggie, alright?"

"Do you work for Lamb?" Jack asked, barely noticing the clawing since it didn't register as more than a slight pressure to his tough skin, especially through his shirt sleeve.

Letting out a breathless huff of bitter laughter, Reggie shook his head. "That crazy bitch is the reason I've been trapped down here for-- fuck, I don't even know how long it's been."

Humming softly, Jack decided he believed Reggie and loosened his grip some more so the smaller man could breathe a bit easier. If Jack had learned anything about Lamb's cult it was that none of them would speak so ill of her even to save their own skins. "If you're not one of Lamb's, what are you doing down here? Why is this Vita-Chamber set to revive you?"

"I'm just tryin' to survive, same as everyone else." Reggie grumbled, having finally stopped his clawing but grunting and digging his nails into Jack's arm again when he tightened it threateningly. "Alright, alright!" He relented, huffing angrily before answering Jack's question. "I worked for Frank Fontaine once upon a time. You heard of him?"

Eyes widening, Jack instantly released Reggie and took a step back. He felt a little bad for it when Reggie fell forward onto the slimy, grimy ground, but he decided to stay where he was instead of offering his help right away. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you." Jack said, feeling bad for, first of all, having killed Reggie, and secondly for the headlock before what the other man had said really sank in and he frowned. "Wait, you _used_ to work for Frank?"

"Yeah." Reggie huffed, having caught his breath while Jack was fretting. "'Til he got gunned down, then I worked for Atlas for awhile." He continued, shifting to sit down and laying his head against the Vita-Chamber so he could look up at Jack without straining his neck. "Anyway, this was Frank's personal Vita-Chamber. I volunteered to be the test dummy to make sure it worked and I guess he never bothered removin' my DNA from it. I got shot durin' a fire-fight under Atlas not too far from Fontaine Futuristics and I guess I was just close enough to this thing for it to bring me back. I been stuck down here ever since."

"Wow." Jack muttered, realizing that Reggie could've very well been trapped down here for going on two years now. Even for someone with a Vita-Chamber on his side, surviving potentially so long all by himself was impressive. "Sorry again for killing you and for almost doing it again." He said, smiling shyly at Reggie while he put away his hook and not feeling at all put-off when he just glared at him. That was fair, honestly. "My name is Jack. I also work for Frank."

"Bullshit." Reggie scoffed, frowning in what appeared to be annoyance at Jack. "I'd recognize a fuckin' mountain like you and I ain't never seen you around Rapture let alone around Frank." Just as Jack was opening his mouth to respond, Reggie seemed to realize something and his annoyed frown turned into a confused one. "Wait, you _work_ for Frank. Like, currently?" Jack simply nodded and Reggie slowly stood up, using the Vita-Chamber to keep his balance. "And you said your name is Jack?" When Jack nodded again, Reggie laughed in disbelief. "Jack Ryan?"

Eyes widening, Jack looked at Reggie in surprise. "You know about that?"

"Holy shit." Reggie huffed, laughing again and running a hand through his hair, well past the point of caring about how dirty both were given how long he'd been stuck down in the bowels of Fontaine Futuristics without a proper shower to speak of. "The crazy bastard actually did it."

Surprised when he didn't feel angry at Reggie's comment, Jack tilted his head and regarded the smaller man. "Were you and Frank close?" He asked softly, having noted how Reggie used Fontaine's first name, something none of his other people ever did. The only other person he'd ever heard use Fontaine's first name was Sinclair. Even Ryan never used it.

Bristling at Jack's question and then bristling even more when Jack stepped closer to him, Reggie scowled at the much larger man. "What the fuck's it to you?" He grumbled, trying to back up when Jack came closer and only succeeding in pressing himself against the warm glass of the Vita-Chamber.

Sighing lightly at Reggie's attitude, Jack smacked his hand against the Vita-Chamber right next to Reggie's head hard enough to make a loud noise, but not hard enough to actually damage the glass. "Wrong answer." He said lowly, feeling oddly satisfied at the spark of fear in Reggie's defiant eyes. "Try again."

"Yeah, alright? We were close." Reggie said lowly, fist clenching an unclenching even though he knew nothing he could throw at Jack would phase him. "I've known him since we were kids. We grew up together." When Jack's eyes widened in surprise and he didn't respond right away, Reggie took it as his opportunity to get some of his nerve back and glare at Jack. "How'd _you_ end up chummy enough to get on a first name basis, huh? Last I heard you were just a weapon."

Flushing lightly, Jack averted his gaze to try and hide his dopey smile. "We're sort of married." He mumbled, smile fading when Reggie went a bit without saying anything. When Jack looked down at him again, the shorter man looked confused and maybe a little disturbed.

"Ain't you like-- four?" Reggie asked, frown deepening when Jack flushed brighter.

"Well, I mean, _chronologically_ , yes, but--" Jack started, straightening up to glare down at Reggie. "Hey! If we're gonna play the age card, you shot a fireball at a four-year-old."

"A fuckin' big four-year-old who didn't even flinch from it!" Reggie shot defensively, pausing when Jack raised an eyebrow at him and deflating as he realized he'd just lost that fight. "Yeah, okay, fine. Point taken." He muttered angrily, slipping to the side now that Jack wasn't in his bubble and finally getting some distance between them again.

Frowning thoughtfully, Jack slowly looked Reggie up and down. "How **did** you use Incinerate, anyway?" He asked, still not noting any deformities on the visible parts of Reggie's body and deciding that he was stable enough even if he was a grouchy dick. It seemed very much like Reggie was the same type of Splicer Jack was, but Reggie clearly wasn't made of Adam, he was too easy to kill.

"I found a few prototype hyper-refined Plasmids locked in a safe awhile ago when I was lookin' for food." Reggie explained, looking around the room and locating his backpack. He retrieved it and fished out a folder, handing it to Jack. "They hadn't been tested yet, but they were supposed to be Plasmids without any of the nasty side-effects."

Flipping open the folder, Jack looked over the contents and hummed curiously. "Did it work?" He asked, looking up from the folder and frowning a bit at Reggie's bitter expression.

"Well, I ain't a spliced-up freak, but the whole addiction thing needs more work." He grumbled, taking the folder back when Jack offered it to him and putting it back in his backpack. "I get the shakes like fuckin' crazy if I go too long without any Eve in my system and if I fall asleep on empty, I get some crazy fuckin' nightmares."

"Huh." Jack hummed, nodding a bit and taking one of the Eve hypos from his belt. He offered it to Reggie and rolled his eyes when the smaller man looked at him suspiciously. "You ran out earlier, right? It's bad enough that you're a grouch, I don't wanna travel with you while you're going through withdrawal."

Frown softening a little for the first time since Jack had met him, Reggie looked at the syringe again and rubbed his forearm a bit before taking it tentatively. "Shit's hard to come by down here, you sure?" He asked lowly, glancing at Jack again.

Smiling, Jack took off his own pack and showed Reggie the wealth of luminescent blue syringes within. "I came with plenty." He assured, slinging his backpack back on and watching curiously as Reggie quickly located a promising vein in his arm and shot up. He groaned quietly and dropped the syringe, so he could cradle the arm he'd injected, which was trembling lightly. "Does it hurt?" Jack asked softly, having always wondered what these wonder drugs felt like for normal people. He got a slight rush when he used Eve, but it wasn't the sort of thing he'd seek out, just a nice little side-effect of something he had to do to keep his main weapon going strong.

"No." Reggie grit out, slumping against the wall and slowly sliding down it. "It's-- fuck-- it's good." He huffed, sitting there for a bit before he let out a slow sigh and relaxed. "Thanks." He mumbled, rubbing the injection spot a bit and glancing up at Jack. "That-that hit the spot."

Smiling a little as Reggie's mood seemed to improve a bit, Jack offered the smaller man his hand. "Let's get you back to Frank, huh?" He offered, smiling more when Reggie took his hand cautiously and let himself be hauled up. "Just stay close to me, okay? I'll keep you safe." For a second Reggie looked annoyed and like he might argue, but then he sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, okay." He grumbled, sliding his backpack on and moving to follow Jack out of the small room before a voice Jack was unfamiliar with came from the intercoms around the room and made him pause.

"I was wondering when you would make your way back into my family's home." The voice, a woman's voice, said calmly, clearly directed at Jack. "It is with a certain measure of regret that I admit I was-- preoccupied when you took Grace from us." Despite the assertion, there was no emotion in the woman's words and no weight to her slight pause afterwards. "I will not make that mistake again."

Just as the woman finished talking, a shrill, inhuman scream echoed into the room from further away. "Fuck." Reggie breathed, sounding genuinely afraid and actually cowering behind Jack a bit.

"What was that?" Jack asked in awe, glancing over his shoulder at the cowering man before another shriek, this one louder, sounded out and made his head snap forward.

"That's Eleanor Lamb." Reggie whispered, eyes darting about wildly from behind the mountain of a man he wasn't so sure could keep him safe anymore. "And she's close."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I read the Rapture novel, I instantly fell in love with Reggie. Then I spent a bit lamenting that he wouldn't get to be in Fathoms. I was already too far along, there was no way to add him that made sense. Then I thought of this fantastic excuse for why he hasn't been around since chapter one and boom! I've been dying to get to these chapters so I could add him ever since.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [When the battlefield ran red](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736727) by [Booker_DeShit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booker_DeShit/pseuds/Booker_DeShit)
  * [When the battlefield ran red](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28736727) by [Booker_DeShit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booker_DeShit/pseuds/Booker_DeShit)




End file.
